


familia ante omnia

by itsfromjapaAAAAAAAN (alex_marie1324), tall_loser



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: "i didn't know i was royal" au, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BOYF RIENDS IS PAST, EXPENSIVE HEADPHONES IS THE FOCUS!, Emotions, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Royalty, Smut, boyfs get one dedicated chapter of flashback and thats it sorry, boys having emotions, i love this so much, me? adapting ANOTHER roleplay into a fic? yes and im not even sorry, me? being a multishipping piece of shit? absolutely, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-01-21 13:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_marie1324/pseuds/itsfromjapaAAAAAAAN, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_loser/pseuds/tall_loser
Summary: The King and Queen of Celercaust were in a pinch; unable to conceive another child in case something were to happy to their first. So, an 'agreement' was made: the King would have a child with the Queen's sister, and that heir would be hidden away from the kingdom so nobody could harm them."Michael had been raised in one of the poorer cities, but he never felt like they went without anything important. Both of his parents worked hard- and so did he, once he turned thirteen (he was now reaching twenty-three) he dropped out of school to help them pay the bills- and they’ve lived happily.And none of them had ever tested the law, so naturally when there comes a pounding knock and an authoritative voice saying there’s a message for them from the King."[updates every Sunday! (SORT OF)]





	1. Home(s)

**Author's Note:**

> Jeremy parts courtesy of [this babe](http://aminoapps.com/p/9uzotc) who doesn't have ao3 but also has [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/_gayoblongpill_/?hl=en) so go bother her about Jeremy in this AU
> 
> Rich parts by [this other babe, tall_loser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_loser/pseuds/tall_loser) ([amino](http://aminoapps.com/p/4aq538))
> 
> And Michael parts by [me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random13245/pseuds/itsfromjapaAAAAAAAN) (pm me thru my [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/random13246/?hl=en) or my [amino](http://aminoapps.com/p/vrb7av))
> 
> So you can bother each of us about our respective characters.
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> ~~HONESTLY PLEASE TALK TO US ABOUT THIS AU BECAUSE WE ALL FUCKING LOVE IT~~  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Message From The King & Questions & Bathtime

This is not the sort of job Rich was just born into. He was, in reality, another common boy that knew how to pull strings and dig up old royal blood in his veins. He managed to barely squeeze his way into the caste and later into the shabby knights’ quarters, which were a palace of their own in comparison to the village he came from.

He was knighted, sealing his safety in the palace. Through the training, he built up some actual muscle definition and a pretty solid respect. He even had a scar through his eyebrow, which looked pretty badass if he did say so himself.

Okay, so maybe he was already strong from the farm work he did growing up, as the scar was actually from smashing his face into a cabinet door, but if he didn’t tell anyone that, he could carry on acting badass. And he’d learned to carry himself with an air of respect.

But what is that all being used for now? To teach what was likely a little sticky-fingered kid how to not stick his fingers in his nose during dinner. If his previous master, the current Prince, was twenty-five, this ‘other son’ couldn’t be anywhere near as old.

Yet here Rich is, climbing off the back of his stallion and knocking on the door of one of the less than decent looking houses in the village. He frowns when he realizes how snobby he’s become, but has to swallow it for now to speak.

“Open up! I bring a message from the King!”

* * *

Michael had been raised in one of the poorer cities, but he never felt like they went without anything important. Both of his parents worked hard- and so did he, once he turned thirteen (he was now reaching twenty-three) he dropped out of school to help them pay the bills- and they’ve lived happily.

And none of them had ever tested the law, so naturally when there comes a pounding knock and an authoritative voice saying there’s a message for them from the King.

His parents share a strange, almost knowing look before his mother clears her throat. “Could you get that, Michael?”

Michael nods mutely, very confused and a bit scared. His parents seem to know what was happening. Is he in some kind of trouble?

He opens the door. “Hello?”

Rich is… a little more than pleasantly surprised to see someone around his age at the door. And not just that, but one who is actually kind of _cute_. Which just… isn’t fair.

Rich shakes his head slightly, bringing himself back to the task at hand. He opens the wax sealed message and looks the boy over again.

“Are you Michael Joseph Bell?” Rich is fairly certain there’s not a snowball's chance this guy standing in front of him is Michael. Michael is supposed to be some stinky little four year old with bad table manners, wasn’t he? “Only he may hear this message.”

“Uh,” Michael swallows, “I am he.” He’s very intimated. One of the King’s knights- a really handsome one, at that- is standing in his doorway, asking for him _by name._

Rich is stunned for a moment. That- That _is_ Michael? He shrugs to himself, holding out the letter a bit dramatically.

“Michael Joseph, as of today you are to be living within the Mell castle with your rightful family. Your true blood lies in the castle and with the worsening state of your brother, Prince James, you will be taking his place as heir to the throne. You are to claim your rightful birth name of Mell and join Sir Richard Lynn Goranski in the process of becoming fit for the crown.”

Rich folds the letter, ignoring the jaw drop from Michael, and hands it to him before bowing. “Sir Richard Lynn Goranski, at your service, Prince Michael.”

Michael blinks rapidly. “Wait, what?” He waves his hand holding the letter desperately. “No, no, no, I’m not-“ he laughs, “you must have the wrong Michael, I’m not _royal._ ”

There was just no way. Michael grew up _here_ with his _parents_. He was another common person, not… _royal._

“This has to be a case of mistaken identity,” he laughs again, a short nervous sound, and shoves the letter back into Rich’s hands. Rich sighs softly and takes the letter only to make a gesture of it to Michael’s parents standing behind him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bell? Please tell Prince Michael the truth. You’re allowed now and the King will lay his apologies for making you wait so long.” Rich tries not to say the word ‘ _pay_ ’ with too much bitterness. Everyone buys their happiness in the palace. “I can assure you Prince-” _wait, no._ “My apologies, _Master_ Michael. I can assure you are of royal stature and are to be leaving your foster family.”

Michael turns around to face his mother, an uneasy pit forming in his stomach, and she sighs solemnly.

“May we talk to Michael alone for a moment?” She doesn’t wait for a reply before closing the door. Not that the door shut all the way anyway, the lock had been busted for years.

“Mom?” Michael asks in a strangled tone. She looks heartbroken.

“It-It’s true,” she sighs, “what he said was true. We were sent you to take care of, but always with the understanding they’d take you back someday. I’m so sorry, we weren’t allowed to tell you.”

“What?” Michael asks incredulously. This isn’t real, it can’t be real. He’s dreaming. Or having a nightmare, he isn’t sure yet.

“I’m sorry, son,” his father says, having been silent this whole time but looking no less distressed than his mother. He places a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “It’s time to go.”

Michael is turned around, leaving his teary-eyed parents behind him as he opens the door again.

“Okay, um-”

“Wait!” His mother suddenly cries out, rushing away before coming back with something in her hands. She presses it into Michael’s hands and whispers. “A keepsake.”

“Thank you…” he grips it tightly. It’s heavy and clearly metal. He turns back to Rich. “Alright then, I’m ready to go…?”

Rich folds the letter and puts it into his pocket. “As you wish. Would you like some help mounting your horse?” _Or you could mount me-_ slow down there, thoughts.

Michael frowns. He’s never ridden a horse before. He’s never had to.

“Uh, yes please,” he looks up at the horse and frowns again. He’s never been so close to a horse before, only seen them from afar, they were a commodity afforded only by the richer populace. They’re a lot bigger up close. It’s almost scary.

The whole situation is scary. It still hasn’t really hit him.

Rich can pick up on Michael’s nervousness. Handling the horses was Rich’s main job, so he was exceedingly comfortable with them. He always liked the horses more than any of the other knights.

So, Rich holds tightly to the reins of the horse and swings himself up on the stallion. He smiles reassuringly down at Michael and holds out a hand.

“Take my hand, put your foot in the holder, and then just swing yourself up! I’m here to help if you need it, you’ll get it in no time, I’m sure.” Not that Michael has a choice, equestrian studies were an important part of this process. It’s not like Princes could just _walk_ anywhere. 

Michael hesitantly takes Rich’s hands, the skin on skin contact lighting up his nerves like electricity. _Oh._ He tries to ignore the way his heart is suddenly speeding up, hoisting himself- a bit awkwardly- onto the horse. He ends up accidentally lying on Rich for a second before he sits up. He wavers a bit on the horse’s back, so he grabs at Rich’s midsection to steady himself.

And Rich enjoys that a little too much. “Just hold onto me and you’ll be fine for today. I won’t let Lars gallop either.”

Rich guides the horse back in the direction of the castle and they started to clop back towards it. Michael gripped even tighter onto Rich when the horse started moving. Rich doesn’t miss this, and it made it so much harder for him to not try and romance him. _Princes and knights don’t fall in love._

“Master? Shall we play a game to help pass the time? The castle is a bit of a distance at this speed.”

Michael seems shocked out of a slight trance when Rich speaks. “Uh,” he feels intensely weird about being called _master_ , “what game?”

“Just a questions game, I would like to get to know you better,” Rich says, “we will be spending a lot of time together and I don’t want us to be strangers.”

“Um,” Michael accidentally squeezes Rich when the horse goes over a bump, “sure, a questions game.”

Rich notices again the way Michael clings to him. “Is everything okay? I promise Lars won’t buck, you really have nothing to worry about, Master.”

It takes Michael a moment to respond to ‘master.’ “Sorry, I’ve just never ridden a horse before, this is very…” he loosens his grip, “nerve-wracking.”

Rich laughs. He considers, for a moment, making Lars go faster just to make Michael cling to him again. But he doesn’t want to _scare_ Michael. “I understand. I started caring for royal horses when I was a very young lad. They’re like my friends.” He slows the horse down a bit, feeling bad for Lars because he knows he wants to run, but even trotting would probably scare Michael. Michael relaxes a bit more.

“Easy question,” Rich starts, “favorite color?”

Michael’s so busy focusing on balancing without grabbing on too tightly to Rich, that he doesn’t realize for a second that Rich had asked him a question.

“Uh,” _favorite color_ , “probably red? What about you?”

“Not to seem uppity, but I like purple. But like, a reddish purple. Kind of a mauve, I guess,” Rich says.

“Uppity?” Michael mumbles to himself. He didn’t want to admit it, but his education was severely lacking. There just wasn’t time for it, and now with Rich using bigger words he’s never heard before, the contrast between them becomes more and more obvious.

Rich spots a hole up ahead, gauging the jump it’s going to be. Not a very big jump, but a jump nonetheless. “Master, you may want to hold on, there’s going to be a jump.”

“Oh god,” Michael wraps his arms around Rich and holds on as tightly as he can without hurting him, inadvertently pressing himself against Rich’s back.

They successfully clear the jump, and Rich feels so alive. So much so that he forgets to slow down after. Michael feels his stomach drop when they jump, and it doesn’t help that Rich just keeps speeding up.

 _Oh god, I’m going to die, right here, on this horse, I’m going to die._ He squeezes Rich tighter than should be comfortable for Rich, his chest flush with the knight’s back.

Rich keeps the horse galloping for a few minutes before realizing Michael is holding on like his life depends on it because he’s scared.

He slows them down to a walk, earning a sigh of relief from Michael. He pats Michael’s hands. “Sorry about that. Horse riding is just so absolutely thrilling and I live for the shot of adrenaline.”

“It’s fine,” Michael says, and once the horse is down to a slow pace he can handle, he loosens his grip. But he _definitely_ does not let go.

They ride in silence for a mile or so before Rich suddenly remembers the questions game they were playing.

“Oh! Yes, the questions. Forgive me if this seems uncouth of me to ask, but are you…” he clears his throat and softly says, “more of a princess or prince kind of fellow?”

Michael is taken aback by the question. He’s not sure what ‘uncouth’ means, but he’s sure whatever it is, the question is just that.

“I, uh, haven’t given the matter much thought,” he admits, but he’s at least half-lying. There wasn’t much time for romance between work, but… there was a boy. “I suppose I lean towards princes,” he shrugs. It really isn’t of much importance to him to figure it out; he just remembers liking that boy.

Rich twists around to see him a bit. “Yeah? I’m one of those lucky knights who enjoys rescuing distressed damsels and damoiseaus.” He turns back around to see the castle walls nearing. Michael laughs awkwardly. He isn’t sure how he feels about this line of questioning, so he’s glad it seems to end there.

“One last question, if I may?” Rich pipes up.

“Ah, sure,” Michael figures nothing could be more invasive, so what’s the harm?

Rich stops their horse as they reach the gates. “Are you ready for your life to be absolutely turned upside down? Because I’ve come from where you are, but I didn’t get the same help. I still can’t properly do math, I still can’t correctly tell the difference between a bit and a twopence, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you fail.”

Michael flounders for a moment, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly like a fish. 

The short, honest answer was _no._ He is definitely _not ready_ for that. He knew to start he had a lot of basic education to catch up on, let alone the more complex education needed for _running the country_. He’s going to be running a country. _What the hell, who decided that was a good idea?_

But the answer he ends up giving is a shockingly assured sounding; “Yes.”

Rich nods. “I like that you lie,” Michael chokes on air at that, gaping as Rich continues, “sometimes lying is an option you must embrace within the castle walls.”

Michael isn’t sure how to handle being directly called out for lying, so he just closes his mouth. A pit forms in his stomach as he thinks over what Rich said about lying.

Rich looks at the gates for a moment before shouting. “Open the gates! I bring the Prince!”

 _Prince. That’s me, isn’t it?_ Michael thinks, feeling a bit dizzy. He hears a confirming shout back and the iron gates start to roll up. Rich enters and talks to Michael as they ride through the entrance to the stables.

“I apologize that you must come see the stables of all places. I cannot bring Lars any closer without having others say ill.” 

“I don’t mind the stables,” Michael says honestly. He grew up in what was considered the slums and those hardly compared to the royal stables.

Rich stops the horse and gets off. He holds the reins tightly and uses his free hand to offer to Michael. Michael takes it, swinging one leg over and the other as Rich continues to speak.

“Come, there’s a tour before I throw you to the mercy of your father.” Rich’s tone does nothing to soothe Michael’s nerves.

Michel slides off the horse a bit less than confidently. “Alright, then… show me around.” Rich grins and gives a little bow.

“As you wish,” he stands from the bow and calls to the stable-boy to hand off the reins. The young boy comes bouncing over, clearly excited just to be around Rich. Rich hands him the reins and waits until the horse is safely inside the stable before guiding Michael back to the front of the castle. “If you ever need a horse just tell me or Finley there,” he gestures to the stable boy, “we are the primary caretakers of the stables as nobody wants to do the task.”

“Why does no one else want to do it?” Michael asks, not having the manners to realize that kind of came off as rude. But he’s genuine curious; Rich seemed excited to be handling the horse as they rode, was it not the same for everyone?

“Horses may carry a sense of nobility, but caring for them is seen as a muddy job. So it’s left to people like Finley and I. Mongrels with just enough anxiety blood to make it to the castle but no further than the stables.” Rich answers and Michael simply nods as if he understands every word Rich used when he doesn’t.

Rich swings open the grand doors to the castle. “Welcome home, master.”

Michael frowns uneasily. _Home_. This place is _not_ home. Home is… well, back home. Back where he came from. His hand instinctively reaches into the pocket where he’d placed the keepsake and grips it tightly.

Rich shows him through the throne room, nodding his head at the occasional knight who passes them by and pointing out important things like who sits where. Michael follows around, trying to commit everything to memory.

* * *

By the time the tour is done, the sun is setting, which means this meeting was turning into a dinner to welcome Michael. 

Which leads them to where they are now; in Michael’s new room with a few shiny, red outfits laid out in front of him. And the fact that they are all red is not lost to Michael. And he kind of appreciates, he appreciates that Rich had actually been listening to him. He’s almost a bit touched, honestly.

“Pick one,” Rich instructs. Which is easier said than done. Michael’s never seen such extravagant clothing in his entire life, except from afar on royal ambassadors and the like. But now, up close, he can see even more of the intricate details; the small sewn on jewels and careful stitching. And _he’s_ going to wear one of them.

He eventually just points to a random one. “That one,” he says as if he’d given it such careful consideration and not just pointed at any of them. Rich nods and takes the other two outfits away, securing them in a large wardrobe.

Before Rich can warn Michael, the door to his bathroom is swung open and steam rolls out of the door frame.

“Ah- your bath is ready, master.”

“Hu- What?” Michael is still not used to being addressed as master, so it takes him a moment to reply. And another moment to process.

A bath? Does he smell or something? He takes a moment to look between his own body and Rich’s. He definitely still has some built-in dirt in his hands and under his fingernails. He still looked like a common person, and he still felt like one, too.

“O-Okay,” he walks into the bathroom, overwhelmed by the steam and the fact that there appears to be a servant boy still in the bathroom, not bothered by Michael entering. He expected some privacy…

Rich steps in and shoos the servant boy away, who looks more than happy to be leaving this situation.

“Uh, okay… I’m really sorry this is going to seem weird, but you need to strip,” Rich says, closing the door as the smell of honey, milk, and oatmeal waft around them. _Fancy baths for new Princes._

“I- what?!” Michael is close to outright refusing, but he’s unsure of the way this is supposed to work here as a Prince. He instead stands with arms crossed across his body protectively. He glances over at the bathtub, taking in the sight of what has to be ninety-percent bubbles.

“I know, I’m real sorry,” Rich says, his country accent slipping out and the sort of posh persona melting away in his embarrassment, “this is real creepy like I know you think I’m some perv for even askin’ that, but I had ‘ta. It’s just m’ job…”

In a weird way, Michael finds himself comforted by the slip of accent, reminding him that Rich came from similar upbringings.

He sighs, frowns, and relents. “Okay,” he decides to just get this over with. He tosses his shirt over his head but pauses before taking off his pants. He reaches into his pocket and takes out the keepsake, a heavy necklace with a large red gem on the end. It weighs his heart down to think this must’ve been the most valuable thing his parents ever owned, but compared to the wealth around him now, it might as well be a cheap plastic bauble.

Rich stares for a bit, watching Michael like an outsider to whatever is going on in his own world. He coughs, breaking the trances for Michael, and he finally finishes stripping. And Rich does his best not to stare as Michael climbs into the bubbles.

Rich does try to be sweet about it. He tries to be careful washing Michael’s hair- even though he gets distracted by the way it’s beginning to curl up from the water- and does what he can to wash the _appropriate_ places. And Michael does his best to be complacent, sitting a tad awkwardly throughout the whole ordeal. He’s a grown man, and he’s quite capable of bathing himself, but he doesn’t want to give Rich a hard time over it.

But, honestly, Rich is too pale to hide how red his face is. And there are several almost slips where Rich almost mentions how beautiful Michael is. It’s not until Rich is scrubbing Michael’s Hands that he really starts to lighten up some. “I know this whole thing is really weird and I’m really sorry. But I couldn’t, like, help but say I’d do this. I didn’t want to see this place get taken over by another silver-spoon brat,” he sighs, “I really wish I could have proven that better today, but I was told today I had to do it for you. Tomorrow I can prove that.”

“You really don’t like these people, do you?” Michael asks softly.

Rich looks deep into Michael’s eyes. “Not one bit. And some don’t much like me. It’s a very delicate game in this place, Michael. We all have a piece of the puzzle and no one's trying to put it together the same way. You have to play a part or it’ll all come to bite you in the ass.” Michael nods, absorbing all of that. He’d have to keep it in mind. He can’t imagine these people would be too fond of him either. He’s another nobody who suddenly is holding a more powerful position than most of them.

Rich lets go of his hands, satisfied with how he’s cleaned most of the dirt from his nails. “I’ll leave you to get dry. Just put on some underwear and I’ll show- er, I guess I have to dress you. I’m sorry.”

Michael awkwardly stands from the bath, grabbing a towel and quickly wrapping it around his waist. “Am I allowed some privacy until then?” He asks, looking over at the necklace on the counter.

Rich nods and gives a little bow. “Take as long as you need, your Highness. There is really no rush.” Michael scrunches up his nose at ‘your Highness.’ It’s still so weird, being addressed as that.

He quickly throws on some underwear so he doesn’t have to hold the towel up, and then walks over to the counter and picks up the necklace. It strikes him that this is all he has left of his parents. Of his real home. He clenches his hand around it, feeling the faux gold casing around the gem press into his palm. Home is so far away now.


	2. Necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things & Snap & Deal

Michael eventually leaves the bathroom, necklace still in hand. 

“Is there, um… like a jewelry box I could, uh,” he holds up the necklace, and Rich examines it, “keep this?”

Rich nods, recognizing this must be what Michael’s mother gave to him before leaving. “But, perhaps, you should wear it under your clothes for tonight. I… I understand it’s hard to leave a life you knew so clearly… And I won’t make you jump to losing it so quickly.”

Michael hesitantly nods and reaches the necklace around his neck to clasp it tightly. “So, you said you have to… dress me?” He still feels awkward about the whole bathing thing, and this just adds to it.

“Yes,” Rich confirms. He knows he has a job to do, he is supposed to be getting Michael ready for dinner. Yet, here he is, getting distracted and just staring at the _raw beauty_ of Michael’s body. His brain-to-mouth filter must’ve gone on strike because the next thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Say, were those freckles made by angels themselves? Because you look _heavenly_.”

Michael freezes. Is- Is Rich flirting with him?

“Wha- buh-” he says _very_ eloquently. He’s not sure how to handle being flirted with, he never has been. The closest encounters were with that boy back home, with curly hair and blue eyes, who used to tell Michael he was pretty. 

Rich comes closer and, for the moment, controls his hands, keeping them ‘casually’ at his side. Even though the urge to grab a handful of those wet curls and found out what a new prince tastes like was strong, he resisted.

“What can I say, I’m a real sucker for freckles. If I could kiss every single one, I would.” His words make Michael blush all the way to the tips of his ears. He’s even sure his chest and neck are turning red, too, highlighting the freckles Rich was talking about.

“I-Is that an offer?” Michael attempts to flirt back, but it’s awkward and fumbling. He’s not even sure it made sense until Rich is taking another step towards him, close enough to seal the gap without quite doing it yet.

“It is, and for once you get to make your own decision,” he says in a sultry voice, raising the eyebrow with the scar, which catches Michael’s attention.

And Michael. Well, Michael is about to make a really bad decision. This is why he shouldn’t be put in charge of a country, this impulsivity. But, dear god, Rich is pressed right against him, and he’s raising an eyebrow- _and that scar is really attractive_ \- and Michael feels like he’s swimming.

So, he just… kisses him. He’s still naked save for his boxers and the necklace, but that’s hardly a concern. He’s kissing the knight who was supposed to be showing him the ropes.

Rich’s hands almost immediately go to two places; his left hand weaves its way through Michael’s still damp hair and his right hand to Michael’s hip. And what’s worse is Michael seems to be receptive to it, he moans softly and arched into the touch.

And Rich could swear he dies as that sound leaves Michael’s lips. Just the sound ignites a thousand ideas of what he wants to do to Michael. 

But- this is technically his _boss_ , and they should probably stop. _Right?_

There’s a moment of considerations, a brief amount of time where Rich tugs on Michael’s curly ends and elicits another moan. That sound pushed his decision; ultimately, Michael could pull away whenever he wanted.

So, while he’s got him there, Rich slides his tongue into Michael’s mouth. And Michael definitely does _not_ mind, running his tongue along Rich’s.

But- this is slowly starting to feel like more and more of a mistake. Which is probably a good thing, because Rich really needs to be getting Michael dressed.

But here Rich is, not getting him ready. He unwillingly pulls away and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He feels like whatever moment they just had was lost.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I have to...” Rich trails off and Michael just nods. He doesn’t totally understand Rich’s half sentences and stuttering, but he understands why he’d pull away. He feels like his heart is going to break his rib cage, bust right through at this rate, and that would be pretty messy to clean up.

“Sorry, that was-” Michael searches for the word, “inappropriate.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that! I- I need to get you ready for dinner. We can… do this some other time. Like tonight?” Rich knows how desperate he sounds, and he doesn’t just sound it he _feels_ it. 

Michael is stunned for a moment by the bluntness. “Wh- I-” on one hand, that offer was appealing; on the other hand, it was wildly inappropriate.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says, and it’s not an outright refusal, but it’s not a clear acceptance either.

Rich rubs his face. He feels as though he was so close to having what he wanted, but messed it up. “Right, of course. Uh- let’s just get you dressed.” 

He quickly explains how the various pieces of the outfit work, though Michael doesn’t seem to be paying attention. He simply tries to be as complacent as possible as Rich dresses him.

“Thank you,” Michael says, internally having to accept that he wouldn’t have been able to get himself dressed without Rich’s help.

Rich nods and suddenly everything is stiff and formal. And it feels extremely weird for it to be like that. Rich just had his tongue down Michael’s throat and _now_ he’s acting professionally? Rich quietly holds the door open for him, trying to ignore how cold the interaction feels.

Michael tries to shake the weird feeling it gives him and walks out the door. He pauses a few steps outside of the door when he realizes he doesn’t where he’s going. Rich guides him, though his mind is elsewhere.

He’s at a point where he _cannot_ lose this job. Lose this life that he’s begrudgingly preferred over living on a farm in the slums. He’d spent too many days a young kid in a winery, watching his father make actual, quality wine, but drink it all and lose any money they could have had.

He loves his horses, loves having warm water. Even if knightship sucked sometimes, he’s become more pompous than he wants to admit. And he doesn’t want to lose it over a kiss. Even if he did enjoy the kiss, and Michael seemed to as well, if anyone found out- if Michael _told_ anyone…

He shuts the dining room door behind him as they walk in. He gives a bow to the royal family; the King, the Queen, and Michael’s older brother, the current Prince. 

“Your Highnesses. Your son, Michael,” Rich gestures to Michael with a grand sweeping motion. Before he even has a chance to stand completely from his bow, the King stands and orders him out. So Rich scurries out of the room and closes the door.

Michael watches him go with a pit in his stomach. Sure, things are awkward between them, but at least Rich is _familiar_. And now he’s gone.

“Michael. Welcome home,” the King says in in a very unkind voice, and Michael swallows audibly. There they go again calling this place ‘home.’ The King’s eyes quickly dart between Michael and his brother. “Please, sit. Excuse that knight, he’s of common beginnings, but he has some actual sense about him.”

Michael feels a bit offended; both on Rich’s behalf and on his own, being from similar upbringings as Rich. He opens his mouth to say something, but the cold stare of the King reminds him that he was told to sit, and probably shouldn’t talk back to the King- his _father_. So he sits where he was directed to sit, if a bit awkwardly.

He looks very out of place there, amongst his supposed family. No amount of washing and fancy clothes could make him look like the rest of the royal family. They look regal and powerful, he looks like a peasant in nice clothing. And he feels like one still.

Three sets of eyes are tearing into him; his father, his step-mother-slash-aunt, and his half-brother-slash-cousin. The family tree was beyond messed up.

Dinner is mostly silent, aside from a few questions about his country upbringings, which Michael answers uneasily. He can feel their judgment of his life through every glance and word. The way they were looking at him over dinner was a strong contrast to the family dinners he was used to back home. He doesn’t miss, though, the physical similarity between himself and his father, and the way his brother looks like a slightly paler echo of their father. He never noticed how unlike his foster parents he looked.

He subconsciously grabs the necklace under his clothes, fiddling with it through the fabric.

“What do you think of Richard? He’ll be spending a lot of time with you, we hope you will be close,” the King says. _You have no idea how close,_ Michael thinks to himself.

“He is nice,” Michael says stiffly. _A good kisser_ , he doesn’t add, along with, _and handsome, too._

“Good,” the King says in return. But, it’s the Queen who notices his fiddling and looks furious.

“Quit fiddling!” She shouts, and the sound reverberates around the high ceiling dining hall, causing the staff who were a moment ago moving around in tense unison to start moving faster. And Michael freezes. “What are you playing with? I know that outfit well, and it is not supposed to have a neck garment. Did that country boy give you something? I told you he was bad news, Charles!”

“No!” Michael squeaks, suddenly unfrozen as his hand flies from his neck to his lap in the blink of an eye. “It’s nothing, I swear,” he waves his hands in front of himself. A flash of ear shoots through him; what if the Queen takes the necklace away from him? He couldn’t let that happen, oh god-

“ _Lying_ may have been acceptable in the _dirty slums_ where you came from, but not here. Take it off. _Now._.”

Michael is seconds away from complying, reaching around to unclasp the necklace when the Queen suddenly stands and in two steps is in his face, grabbing the necklace and _yanking_ it off. He can feel the chain snap in half around his neck. He has to will himself to be stronger than her in that moment and not cry.

She examines it with a harsh eye. “This is what you were saving? You could have so much better here. No son of mine will be wearing such trashy neck ware,” his throat starts to close up tightly at the word ‘trashy.’ She drops it on one of the dirty trays being carried by one of the passing butlers, and Michael resists the urge to leap up from his seat and grab it. “See to it that this necklace is gotten rid of at once. I don’t care what you do, but I want it’s filthy origins away from my family.”

Michael’s eyes are burning, but can’t cry, he _can not_ cry. He knows before the Queen says it that the necklace is nothing but trash compared to the jewelry at the castle, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s all he has left of his mother- his _real_ mother, not this woman posing as a motherly figure.

The Queen shoos away the servant with his broken necklace and with that, the dinner has bitterly ended. Everyone flows out of the room until eventually, Michael is the only one.

Michael rushes out of the dining room, clutching his chest where the necklace had been. It’s gone. The last thing he had, snapped like it was nothing.

He tries to blindly retrace the direction Rich had guided him in from the room to the dining hall, eventually finding it and throwing the door open and closing it with a slam. He collapses on the bed, starting to cry now that he’s alone.

* * *

Rich had been in training, but he finishes it later with only a few bruised knuckles and a badly bruised ego.The training had helped get his mind off of the situation earlier with Michael. He carefully opens the door to Michael’s room, thinking that Michael wasn’t back yet so he could prepare for his first night in the castle.

So imagine his shock to find a crying Michael curled up on the bed. His first instinct is to sit next to Michael and hold him close, so he does. Michael almost immediately clings to Rich’s clothing, digging his fingers in. It breaks Rich’s heart.

Back when Rich had first joined the royal guard, he was ridiculed all day (for his accent, his clothing, his appearance) and was wore down to his wits’ end. He fell into his barracks at the end of his first day and sobbed. He wanted to quit right then and go back to his old life. An older knight- one old enough to be his father- had come to comfort him, held him all night. And Rich is still here, so there’s something to be said for a little bit of comfort.

Maybe Michael doesn’t have the option to go home and quit, like Rich had, but Rich doesn’t want him to feel alone.

“She took it, she took it,” Michael sobs half-coherently into Rich’s shoulder. He pulls away a little bit, clutching his chest again where the necklace was and releasing Rich’s clothing. Rich runs his hands up and down Michael’s back, doing what he can to calm down the sobbing prince.

“She who, Micha?” He’s not sure where the nickname comes from, but it feels right, and Michael doesn’t correct him.

“The Queen- it’s broken,” Michael breathes in, but it’s more of a broken wheeze, his whole body shaking. “Oh, god, it's broken-”

“I’ll get your necklace,” Rich says, understanding by the way Michael is holding his chest, “don’t cry, please…” Michael shakes his head vigorously. He breathes out again, his fingers going back to digging into Rich’s clothes.

“It’s gone,” he says in a broken voice.

“Nothing’s ever truly gone around here. I promise your mother’s necklace is still out there.” Rich picks up Michael and gently sets him down near the dresser. “Let’s get you into something comfy and in bed, okay?” Michael nods. “This may be overstaying my welcome, and I apologize if it is, but I’ll gladly stay with you as long as you need me.” As he talks, he slowly gets all of the complex layers of clothing off of Michael.

“T-Thank you,” Michael hiccups, still sniffling. He lifts his arms as needed to remove some of the layers. His breathing is still uneven and unsteady and his body is still shaking, but he’s calming down slowly. He makes himself believe that his necklace isn’t gone. “Fu-ck, I was go-nna t-take you up on th-that offer-” Michael looks up at him and smirks despite the hiccups interrupting his words and the tears still rolling down his cheeks. Rich laughs and kisses his cheek, turning Michael’s face red.

“Really? I won you over that easily?” Rich smiles weakly. With all the layers gone, Rich gets another eyeful of Michael and all of those freckles. Michael squirms slightly as Rich stares, definitely eye-fucking him right there, but he doesn’t mind that much.

Michael laughs a bit. “Tell you what,” he starts, his breathing slowly becoming more steady, “find the necklace, and I’m all yours.” He smirked deviously. He would have agreed to Rich’s offer without needing something first anyway, but right now he can’t think beyond the missing necklace.

Rich grins and gives a little curtsy. “As you wish. I accept your quest.” He places a kiss on Michael’s forehead, setting ablaze another blush on Michael’s face. “Please get some rest. I’ll have your necklace in no time at all.”

The forehead kiss is a strangely tender gesture considering most of their ‘romantic’ interaction was a lot more… touchy.

“Thank you. Goodnight, Rich,” Michael says with a soft smile.

“Goodnight, Michael,” Rich says before he leaves the room, blowing one last kiss in Michael’s direction that earns him a small laugh.

Michael sighs, standing up and moving to the bed. He sits for a moment, trying to process the events of the day.

A lot had happened.

He rubs his face, feeling the exhaustion suddenly hitting him. He lays down on the bed and feels the way he sinks into the soft mattress. It’s uncomfortably comfortable. Nothing like his bed at home. And the covers that he pulls over himself are even more unfamiliar feeling, soft and downy.

But he has no problems falling asleep underneath of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter fun facts!  
> >tall described rich as having a ‘disgusting little goblin mind’  
> >the lines ‘this is why we can’t have nice things’ and ‘another reason why we can’t have nice things?’ were both in original roleplay when they kissed for the first time


	3. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> •Agreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter may be a bit delayed because it is going to be monstrously long (currently at 11k and it's about half done)

Come the next morning, Rich hasn’t slept, probably needs to wash himself, and definitely needs something to drink, but he does have the necklace, repaired and everything. Mostly, at least, he isn’t an expert with jewelry, but the clasp works and necklace closes and doesn’t immediately fall apart… so that’s good.

Rich gently knocks on the door to Michael’s room. “Michael! Wake up!”

Michael groans loudly and rolls over in the bed. For a split second, he’s thrown into a panic when he sees the room he’s woken up in and forgets that he’s not home, but he swallows the panic and reminds himself of his location. He stands, stretching for a moment before walking over to the door and opening it. “Morning,” he yawns mid-greeting. Rich opens his mouth to tell him the exciting news, but he immediately freezes up when he sees Michael, and more specifically Michael’s bed-head.

“U-Uh, morning!” Rich smiles, a bit dopily, and the tips of his ears are red. “I found you something!” He clasps the necklace around Michael’s neck and kisses his cheek. “Tada!”

“Hmm?” Michael hums, too tired to notice how flustered Rich looks. But when the cold metal of the gem lands against his bare chest, he jolts. “Wh- you found it!” He lifts the charm off of his chest and holds it in his hand. Not only did Rich find it, but he fixed it too. Michael’s heart swells inside his chest. “You- fixed it…” he touches the chain here it had been snapped in half by the Queen’s cruel hands.

In a moment, overwhelmed by emotion, he quickly pulls Rich into the room and shuts the door, crashing their lips together. Rich knew this was coming, but in the moment he forgets about their coy deal. After regaining his grasp on the situation, he wraps his arms around Michael’s waist and returns the less-than-gentle kiss. Michael presses him roughly against the door, making his knees feel a bit weak. Rich locks the door while he’s there. Michael continues to kiss him for a moment more before pulling away.

“I forgot to say thank you,” Michael mumbles, grasping the red gem.

“This is my thank you,” Rich says somewhat breathlessly, his hands sinking a little further down into Michael’s waistband, which makes Michael shiver. “I do think I’m somewhat over-dressed for this occasion.”

“Definitely,” Michael agrees. He starts to pull and paw at some of Rich’s clothing, but some of the pieces are more complicated- with strings and ties Michael’s never seen before- and don’t come off easily. Rich laughs, helping Michael pull at each knot before stripping the constricting layers of clothing.

Now, Michael’s experience is pretty limited, but he’s pretty sure Rich is the hottest man he’s ever seen. He’s fairly in shape, with some abs that Michael thinks he could just stare at flexing forever, and some faint tan lines that allude to his past as a farmer. And Michael wants to put his mouth all over them, every mark and line and even the faint bruises from training. Rich chuckles, snapping Michael out of his slight trance, and takes him into a soft and quick kiss.

“Excuse me, sir, you’re staring and that’s kind of rude… Unless you plan on doing something?” Rich waggles his eyebrows, highlighting that damn scar again.

“It’s hard not to stare,” Michael sighs as if he’s conflicted, and he is. He wants to both stare at and put his mouth all over Rich’s body. “You’re really… hot,” he says, not able to express it fully.

“I’ll keep that in mind and be sure to be topless around you a little more often.” 

“I’d get nothing done,” Michael fakes complains, “I’m supposed to be running a country, but why bother when I’ve got you right here?”

Rich flushes a bit. He doesn’t know how to express that he wants to stop talking aside from raising his eyebrows and grinning. “May we go somewhere more comfortable?” Michael laughs, taking the hint and pulling Rich by the waist to the bed, pushing him down so Rich’s sitting on it and Michael stands in front of him. Rich is internally kind of freaking out; he’s never done something like this- but then Michael is kissing him again and he can’t be bothered to worry about it now. Especially not when Rich manages to slip his tongue into Michael’s mouth again.

Michael is entirely, and blissfully, unaware that he’s somehow the more experienced of the two. He eventually sits down on the bed, but not directly on the bed, oh no, he settles for straddling Rich’s lap instead. Which is not a bad thing, because now Rich is kind of flustered. His face heats up and he pulls away, quickly wiping the thin string of spit connecting them away.

“A-Ah, I wouldn’t- trust me as the dominant one, Michael.”

“Huh?” Michael looks a bit confused, but a smirk starts to form. “Oh? Why’s that?” He teases, ready to make fun of Rich for being a big bad knight who’s more submissive in bed. 

Rich turns red. “I, u-uh, don’t know how to word this without mortally wounding my chances here?”

Michael twirls a bit of Rich’s hair around his finger, tugging just slightly. “Has it turned out the big, buff knight is a bit more… submissive in bed?” He teases, still not realizing what Rich actually meant. But Rich is loving the teasing a little _too_ much.

Once he pushes past the little tugs, he breaks out into nervous laughter. “I, uh-” he clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, “I w-wouldn’t know?” Michael pauses the twirling, sitting back just a bit.

“What?”

Rich is red _all over_. He regrets even mentioning it, but he has to admit it now. “Uh- I’m a virgin. So, uh, I don’t know… how to actually, um…” he makes hand gestures to reference what he means.

Michael frowns for a second before he just… Bursts out laughing. For one, the hand gestures Rich is making are ridiculously wrong. And for another, he’s a virgin?

“Wait, really?” Michael almost doesn’t believe it, but why would Rich lie about something that’s clearly so embarrassing for him. “I’m- I’m not,” he admits through more laughter.

“What? You-” Rich is burning with embarrassment. “God, I- I’m sorry, but I really wouldn’t be upset if you were the one to, uh, take… my virginity?” Michael’s laughter dies in his throat.

“I-” his heart is pounding, a lot of the blood that rushed south earlier is now coming back up to his face. “Are you sure? That’s kind of- well, a big thing to waste on a silly agreement…”

Rich shakes his head. “It has little to do with the agreement. Honestly, the minute I saw you, I, uh… admittedly had some thoughts about you. Had you not been the Prince I would have-” he stops himself, laughs nervously, and continues, “I’m sorry, I’ve absolutely destroyed the mood.”

Michael blinks, a bit shocked by what Rich admitted in his rambling. He really wants Rich to finish that thought, though, so he goes about it teasingly to try and repair the indeed slightly broken mood. “You would have what? Hm?” He runs his hands over Rich’s chest as he speaks.

“Snuck out of the castle just to see you,” Rich breathes out, kissing Michael softly and suddenly. “And there were a few fantasies, but I kept going back to the one where you were teasing me for being strong and yet somehow submissive.” Michael raises his eyebrows, knowing he’d hit right on that one.

He smiles wickedly. “Oh?” He kisses Rich’s jaw just below his ear and works his way down his neck. He then leans up to whisper right into Rich’s ear. “You should tell me more about those fantasies sometime,” but for the time being, he grinds down into Rich’s in an attempt to start escalating things again. 

“Fuck-” Rich manages out between an intense inhale and a stifled moan. Michael drinks in these new noises, moving his hips slower and more deliberate.

“What do you want?” He whispers directly into Rich’s ear before biting it gently, earning a tiny, almost adorable, squeak from Rich.

And Rich’s brain-to-mouth filter is on strike again. “God _damn_ \- fuckin’- fuck me ‘til I forget I ever was a virgin.”

“Fuck-” Michael chokes because, God, he really wants that, and the brashness of Rich’s words just sets off a million fantasies and- Michael might have a voice kink, dear God. He nods, getting up off of Rich’s lap and pushing him back onto the bed.

“Make me _scream_ ,” Rich whispers into Michael’s ear before adjusting himself on the bed a bit.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Michael proclaims in response. He lays on top of Rich and starts to kiss his neck again, and Rich inhales sharply. Michael wants to leave marks, remembering how they’d looked on his last lover, the sharp contrast on pale skin- and though Rich is a few shades tanner, he’s sure they’ll look just as stunning. But he’s not sure he should.

Rich can tell Michael wants to do more and, wanting to encourage him, states, “Dear God, please don’t hold back. Mark me up if you want.” And Michael wants to, and he wants to even more when permission is given but-

“What if someone sees?”

He’s sure that whatever their relationship is, it’s probably breaching a thousand different codes. He doesn’t want Rich to get in trouble for this. Rich breaks him from his thoughts as he curls a finger around a strand of Michael’s hair and pulls, drawing another moan out of him.

“Only person I see for the next week is you. This is week one so I get you all to myself uninterrupted.”

“Good,” that sounds so appealing to Michael, having Rich to himself for a whole week. He leans down now and starts to suck on the junction between Rich’s shoulder and neck, eliciting a few tiny whines from Rich. But when he _bites_ down, Rich cries out. “Was that okay?”

“Yes- _yes_ ,” Rich pants. Michael smirks before repeating it, making sure that the mark he was working on is going to be very dark.

“I wonder…” Michael pulls away, leaning over to the bedside table for a moment and opening the drawer. He pushes some things around, looking for- “Aha,” he laughs, pulling a small jar of lard from the dresser. He knows what that was left here for, and while this is in the same vein, whoever set up the room definitely wasn’t expecting him to use it for this. He opens it and leaves it out on the table, but within reach. “Are you still sure about this?”

“Yes, Michael, _please_ ,” Rich squirms a bit with anticipation. He’s got a good idea of what the lard is for and a needy pit starts to form in his stomach. Michael nods, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Rich’s boxers and slowly pushing them down. Rich hisses as the cold air of the room hits his cock, but Michael doesn’t notice. He’s a bit preoccupied with staring again. “Michael-” Rich whines, “stop staring and do something.”

Michael laughs, reaching over and dipping two fingers into the lard before spreading it over his hand. “Impatient,” he comments before wrapping his slicked hand around Rich’s cock. Rich gasps sharply, throwing his head back and moaning. Michael strokes from base to tip, being deliberately slow with it so Rich was whining and begging for more. 

“Michael- _Jesus_ \- more-” Rich squeezes his eyes tightly and bucks his hips up into Michael’s hand. Michael, in response, removes his hand entirely which causes Rich to _whimper_. Michael chuckles darkly and Rich is sure he could catch fire right now with how hot his body feels.

Michael dips his fingers back into the lard, making sure to get a generous amount on his fingers again and rubbing it between his fingers too. When Rich makes an impatient noise, Michael shushes him. “I don’t want to hurt you. Lay on your stomach,” he commands and Rich swiftly obeys.

Once he’s sure his fingers are thoroughly slicked, he moves his hand down between Rich’s legs and presses one finger against his entrance. Rich gasps sharply, just the barest bit of pressure an entirely different world. “Please…” he mumbles. And Michael obliges, slowly inserting his finger one knuckle at a time. Rich makes a small, desperate noise, and Michael moves a little bit faster. He starts to thrust slowly in and out of him, watching the muscles in Rich’s back twitch and tense. He leans down and kisses Rich on the back as he adds a second finger just as slowly as the first.

Rich arches his back, moaning at the stretch. “Yes…” he pushes himself back onto Michael’s fingers. Michael smirks, curling his fingers in a few different directions before Rich let out a moan that was more of a scream. “D-Do that again,” Rich’s voice wavers. So Michael does, and Rich scream-moans again. In an effort to let Rich catch his breath, Michael stops curling his fingers and instead pumps them in and out. After a minute, he adds a third finger. 

“M-Michael- please fuck me already-” Rich begs and pushes back again on Michael’s fingers in a desperate attempt to get more contact.

“Shh,” Michael croons, adding a fourth finger and spreading them as Rich falls apart in front of him. 

“Nng- Michael, _please_ ,” Rich whines. When Michael finally obliges and removes his fingers, Rich whimpers at the loss.

“Patience,” Michael says distractedly. He dips again into the lard and slowly pumps it over his cock, biting his lip to hold back the slightest moan. He lines up with Rich’s entrance, but hesitates. “Tell me to stop if anything hurts, okay?”

“Yes, okay, just _fuck me_.” 

So Michael slowly pushes into him, pausing about halfway. “I- Jesus, Rich-” his hands grip Rich’s hips tightly, “you have to relax-” he chokes out, struggling with the immense amount of pressure around his cock.

“That’s- not exactly easy-” Rich complains, wanting Michael to just shut up and fuck him.

“I- I know, but I’m not going to l-last like this, you’re so tight-” Michael says honestly. Rich makes a conscious effort to relax and once he does, Michael bottoms out inside him. “Fuck…”

Rich rolls his hips back and Michael makes a punched-out sound. He slowly pulls out until just the tip is inside of Rich before pushing back in equally slowly. He repeats this a few times until Rich starts to get frustrated with the slow pace. 

“Fuck me harder,” he commands in a surprisingly steady voice, “c’mon.” He tries to egg Michael on. Michael growls low in his throat and the sound makes Rich feel dizzy. Michael gradually starts to increase the speed of his thrusts, and that, in turn, slowly increases the volume of their moans. Rich twists the sheets under his hands, gripping on for dear life.

“Michael…” Rich moans breathlessly, “can’t you do that thing that you were doing with your fingers?”

Michael angles his hips and thrusts in hard, slamming right into that spot and making Rich scream. “That?” 

“Yes, yes, that, yes, Michael,” Rich babbles nearly incoherently. Michael thrusts at that angle repeatedly until Rich suddenly gasps and clenches around him, spilling over onto the sheets. Michael’s hips stutter a bit at the feeling.

“Is it-”

“Keep going, you can keep going,” Rich grips the sheets until his knuckles are white. It only takes a few more thrusts before Michael is coming too, staying inside of Rich as he does so. He pulls out, still breathing heavily.

Rich is, honestly, more than satisfied. It takes him no time at all to flip back over and wrap himself around Michael. He mumbles something incoherent into his ear and then promptly passes out. Michael huffs a laugh, not sure what Rich was trying to say, but it was kind of adorable that he passed out.

Michael’s at least ninety-percent sure that Rich is supposed to be teaching him right now, but he doesn’t really care. Rich looks pretty wrecked, with his hair messy and several new marks adorning his neck. Michael feels a bit of self satisfaction over them, knowing that even if he was the only one who’d see them, they were still there.

Michael slowly peels himself from Rich, grabbing up his clothes and walking into the bathroom and dampening a washcloth to clean them both off. He does so, and lays back down in bed, falling asleep soon himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 fun facts!
> 
> >any expensive headphones smut was written 100% by me as the person writing for rich doesn’t do smut, so the roleplay cuts off at a certain point and I pick it up from there when writing it into the fic  
> >YES historically they did use LARD before lube was invented, you’re welcome for this information  
> >they also use oils and if absolutely desperate, spit  
> >I giggled every time I wrote lard I couldn’t take it seriously  
> >I tried, I tried so hard to take it seriously  
> >I failed  
> >every now and then someone in our chat will just be like “lard” and we lose it


	4. Dedicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting & •Privacy & All Good Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOY HOWDY THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO TAKE A WHOLE NOTHER WEEK I AM VERY SORRY HAVE THIS
> 
>  
> 
> _alternative titled: remember when I said boyfs gets a dedicated chapter? also remember when I tagged major character death? Yeah_

Michael roamed the town square. He was only fifteen at the time, but he was looking for work. _Anything that would pay_. He didn’t like to admit just how poor his family was, but they needed the money, to say the least.

He walked around, asking adults if they needed any help with anything; yard work or cleaning or even cooking, he could do any of it. He was also pretty handy, he’d mention. _Anything that would pay._

Jeremy was about the town square as well, buying seeds for the year’s harvest. He lived on a farm with his dad, and they sold their crops in the town. They still had about half of the field to harvest. Jeremy smiled idly as he leaned against a pole.

That was when he spotted him, someone his age; dark brown hair, gorgeous eyes, dark skin. Jeremy was walking up to him before he even knew what he was doing. He tapped him on the shoulder.

Michael turned around, thinking he must’ve attracted someone who needed some help, but he was faced with a boy his age. A bit lanky, but with curly brown hair and striking blue eyes. “Uh, hi?”

“Hello!” Jeremy said brightly. “Um, I was looking around to see if anyone was willing to help my father and I harvest the crop this year? We have about half a field left, so it might take a few weeks if you do accept. And, of course, we would pay you.” Jeremy felt himself trail off as he looked into the other’s eyes, a dorky smile lingering on his lips.

 _A job!_ Michael’s mind rejoiced and his heart pounded because, honestly, the boy offering him the job was: one, the same age as him, and two, actually really cute. The way he bounced up to Michael was almost refreshing. Most of the people around town moved kind of lethargically, as if just trudging through life, so this boy was _different_. And Michael was already smitten.

“Sure, that sounds good,” Michael nodded eagerly.

Jeremy felt his heart flutter. “Great! You can start whenever, um, if you’d like, I can show you around the farm? Not now, of course, unless that’s fine with you?” He shrugged.

Michael shrugged, too. “I’m Michael, by the way,” he held out a hand to shake. God, he’d already agreed to go to this boy’s house and work for him without knowing his name. He had to be losing his mind. But this boy was just so cute, so vibrant, and Michael couldn’t let him just walk away yet, he had to get to know this kid. He was lanky, built like a frigging beanstalk, and he carried it awkwardly, but it was adorable at the same time. Michael liked him a lot and still didn’t even know his name.

Jeremy stood there, a bit dumbly, with a dorky smile tugging at the corners of his lips before realizing Michael was holding a hand out to shake. “Oh, r-right!” He took Michael’s hand, the contact sending electricity through them both as they shook hands. “I’m Jeremy. Nice to meet you, Michael.” He smiled that bright smile.

Michael found himself smiling back, the feeling contagious. _Jeremy, that’s a cute name, for a really cute person._

Jeremy panicked a bit in the silence and started to ramble awkwardly. “That- sounded awkward- oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m just not that good when it comes to conversing?” Jeremy waved his hands, “If that makes sense- I don’t know- I tend to just blurt things out and ramble if I get nervous and-” his hands suddenly stopped moving, “oh, God, I’m doing that right now, um…” His whole face had turned red somewhere along the lines.

And Michael just shrugged. “Sorry, sorry,” Jeremy added, but Michael shook his head.

“It’s alright,” Michael rolled his eyes happily. “It was kind of cute…” he added a bit quieter. It was true, Jeremy might not realize how beautiful and radiant he was, but it was all Michael could think about. He coughed. “So, lead me to your farm?”

Jeremy froze. He wasn’t sure he’d heard that right- but he had to take a shot. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he muttered under his breath, which sent Michael’s mind into a tailspin. _A cute boy thinks I’m cute._ He didn’t have the chance to reply before Jeremy seemed to suddenly remember Michael had asked for him to lead them to his farm. “Yeah, let’s go,” he took Michael’s hand, sending that dull electricity under Michael’s skin again, and lead him through the crowded plaza.

 _I’d follow this boy anywhere,_ Michael thought to himself as he was pulled along.

“It’s a bit of a far walk,” Jeremy said as they walked through the town square gates and onto a dirt road. 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind walking,” Michael shrugged. He especially didn’t mind if it meant spending more time with Jeremy- and holding his hand.

“So! Where did you come from?” Jeremy was genuinely curious. He wondered if all the boys looked like Michael where he came from. Michael was definitely a looker, like, Jeremy didn’t even know someone could be so attractive.

Michael hesitated. “The- The, uh-” he stuttered, unsure how to answer, “I’m from the slums of the town…” he trailed off sheepishly. There was always an air of shame that came with admitting that, and he always feared employers would no longer want help if they found out where he came from. He’d been told a lot that he was dirty, gross even, just because of where he lived. He didn’t want Jeremy to think less of him.

But Jeremy seemed unperturbed and continued with his questions. “Family?” He asked, gently easing his grip on Michael’s hand and beginning to run his thumb comfortingly across the top of his knuckles. Michael quickly relaxed. Jeremy didn’t care about Michael coming from the slums, he seemed like a nice boy either way. “I mean, if you don’t have a family you could stay with us?” Jeremy continued in a rush when Michael was silent, “My dad doesn’t mind, he loves new people.”

“Uh, no, no, I have a family,” Michael nodded, “it’s me and my parents.” His family was pretty small compared to most of the families in the slums- they tended to have a lot of children there, more workers for the family. He’d asked his parents before why he didn’t have any siblings- even went so far as to _beg_ them for a brother once when he was younger- but he’d come to accept it now. “What about you?”

“My father and I,” Jeremy shrugged, “we manage to get by, you know?” Michael nodded. He understood the small family feeling.

“Yeah, we do too,” Michael said, “it’s not bad having a small family.”

Jeremy smiled, looking at Michael. “We manage the farm and sell the product. Pays well,” he shrugged again before realizing, “oh! I didn’t mention how much you’ll get paid! Um, my dad and I didn’t really think we would get help, so thirty percent of the earnings are going to you.”

“ _Thirty-_ ” Michael was shocked. He’d never been offered such a high percentage for anything. He felt a bit guilty. “That’s really- is that not- don’t you guys need the money too?”

“We have enough, it’s fine!” Jeremy smiled, finding himself beginning to gently lean on Michael. Michael felt like he was going to combust. “Besides, we don’t need that much.”

“I- Okay…” Michael hesitantly agreed. He looked away, still feeling weird about accepting that much money. And Jeremy was still leaning on him, taking his breath in stride. He wouldn’t mind Jeremy pressed against him like this forever. He also wouldn’t mind Jeremy pressed against him with less clothing between them- he took a steadying breath. He was getting way ahead of himself. “Are we close to your farm?”

Jeremy snickered. “Depend. I could lie to you and you would be a lot happier with that answer, or I can tell you the truth and you would be disappointed.” They still had two and a half miles to go. Jeremy never minded and even liked, the long walk from the farm to the town and back. It was rather scenic. Plus, it was autumn, and Jeremy loved autumn. All the reds and oranges made him happy.

“I don’t mind walking,” Michael said, and then a bit shyly, “I really like walking with you,” he looked down at their still interlaced hands. He looked around them for a moment before locking eyes with Jeremy. “And the view is really beautiful.” God, he hoped this worked. He’d never flirted with someone like this before. He never really had the time to romance people when it was job after job, but this was technically a job. _Ha_ , he was basically being paid to flirt with a cute boy.

Jeremy looked at Michael, a bit shocked, with a red face. He smiled as the two just… stared. They stared into each other’s eyes as if they were sharing a silent conversation.

“T-Two and a half miles,” Jeremy uttered, breaking the spell, “that’s how much longer the walk is.” His mind was still stuck on ‘and the view is really beautiful.’ There were two things that could possibly mean; that Michael was being sincere about the sights, or he was talking about Jeremy. God, he wished Michael was talking about him. “I think it’s beautiful as well,” he added in an almost whisper as he stared up at Michael lovingly.

Michael was silent, choking for a moment on air. Jeremy looked at him with such _affection_ , Michael had to look away. “That’s not too bad,” he shrugged, “and as long as I’ve got you here with me, I don’t mind,” he added out loud.

Michael then kept his gaze firmly, and awkwardly, trained on some leaves falling from a few trees. He might’ve been talking about Jeremy earlier, but the view really was beautiful. He wasn’t a big fan of fall, though, because it signified winter and winter typically meant fewer jobs, and that meant less money. But at least it was pretty.

He looked back over at Jeremy, who was still looking at him lovingly. He felt like his whole body had been set on fire by a single look. His face had slowly lessened in redness while he was looking at the trees, but now it starts to turn red all over again. Jeremy seemed a bit flustered once he realized he was still staring at Michael, though it was too late now that Michael looked back at him. Michael was perfectly fine with Jeremy staring if he was being honest. He’d never gotten so much attention from someone like this, and he never wanted to go without it ever again.

He wanted Jeremy by his side for the rest of his life, which might be a dramatic thought, but he meant it. He could marry this boy right now and be happy for the rest of his life.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling despite the extreme blush he was sporting.

“-Oh!” Jeremy giggled, looking away and beginning to mumble some nonsense. “Jesus, your eyes are gorgeous…”

“I-” Michael floundered a bit, gesturing with his free hand. He hadn’t heard that comment clearly, so he said, “What was that?” He was at least ninety-percent sure he’d heard it right, but he wanted to be one-hundred percent sure before he said anything.

Jeremy gave a small smile, then looked up at Michael and shook his head with a laugh. “Nothing!” He quickly insisted. _Please don’t ask again…_ But he knew Michael would, so he tried to think of something to say.

_The scenery is gorgeous, the weather is nice today you’re so beautiful- no!_

“I know you said _something_ ,” Michael said, raising an eyebrow. He leaned over and playfully prodded Jeremy with his elbow, Jeremy gently pushed back with a soft laugh. “What did you say, huh?” He looked at Jeremy with an equally playful smile, wanting him to fess up to it.

“Okay, okay! I said you had pretty eyes, happy?” Jeremy smiled, covering his face with both hands in order to cover his blush. So Michael _had_ heard him right. 

“They’re nothing compared to yours,” the words were suddenly leaving Michael’s lips of their own accord. Not that he regretted them, but _whoa where’d that come from?_ It was no secret that Michael was into Jeremy at this point, and if Jeremy needed him to spell it out, he’d try, even though he hadn’t come anywhere close to finishing his education and struggled with spelling.

“Well, to me, you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” Jeremy gave a generous smile, finding himself staring again. It was so cliche, but he could get lost in Michael’s eyes. He _wanted_ to get lost in them. 

Michael shook his head. “You must not have any mirrors at your house,” he countered. He really didn’t understand how Jeremy could possibly begin to compare his eyes to Michael’s like that, and somehow come to the conclusion that Michael’s are prettier- or pretty at all, for that matter. Both of his parents had bluish-green eyes, he had brown ones. And he hated it. Jeremy had vibrant blue eyes that reminded Michael of the ocean, the one time he’d gotten to see it, the one single summer of fun with his parents. Jeremy’s eyes reminded him of one of his favorite memories. He wanted to see those eyes every morning, afternoon, and evening.

“We have plenty of mirrors, maybe you should look in one,” Jeremy replied with a smug smile. “I’m sure you’d like what you see! I sure do,” Jeremy giggled, adding a bit of a hop into his step. He was honestly shocked by his own flirting abilities.

Michael pretended to be offended. “I’ve looked in mirrors before! I just don’t see anything special,” he shrugged. “But when I look at you,” he whistled, “I see some true beauty.”

Jeremy smiled, shaking his head with a childish laugh. “Nope! You’re lying! I see a beautiful angel,” Jeremy would believe it if Michael was actually an angel on Earth, he was just so beautiful, “you know what? I’m calling you that from now on. _My_ angel,” Jeremy smiled blissfully. Michael seemed to be too embarrassed to reply just yet, so Jeremy took advantage and kept going. He pressed a hand to Michael’s cheek. “But, really, Michael, you’re gorgeous.”

Michael sputtered as he tried to come up with a reply, and Jeremy laughed. “Whas- buh- um-” he stuttered, “no, you,” he ended up choking out, not able to come up with anything more eloquent at the moment. He was too focused on the idea of being _Jeremy’s_ angel. God, he wanted that. He wanted that more than anything right now. Jeremy gently pinched his cheek, bringing him to reality while also setting his nerves on fire.

“D’aww, you’re just so cute,” Jeremy said in a slightly mocking tone and smirked, finally dropping his hand back to his pocket, laughing as he did. “I’m just kidding, but you are adorable.”

Michael was stunned by Jeremy’s flirting. He was so fucked. “Y-” he started, but then stopped, “you’re mean,” he finally said, not really meaning it and pouting exaggeratedly. Jeremy giggled again.

“I’m sorry!” He apologized with a small smile, squeezing the other’s hand gently. “And you are adorable, what can I say?” Jeremy shrugged matter-of-factly.

“No, you know what’s really adorable? Your laugh,” Michael sighed wistfully. Jeremy’s laugh was like music to his ears, warm and refreshing like the rest of his personality. He could listen to that laugh forever, and nothing else, and be content. He was so ridiculously in love with this boy he’d just met. It was silly, but he didn’t mind.

Jeremy lost his cool, flirty faςade and began to blush a dark crimson, laughing again despite himself. “-No! My laugh is _gross_ ,” he rolled his eyes, and when Michael looked like he was going to protest, he continued, “seriously, it’s like the laugh of a five-year-old…”

Michael almost felt personally offended. “Your laugh is _not_ gross!” He said, shocked that Jeremy should even think so. He looked directly into Jeremy’s eyes. “It doesn’t sound like a five-year-old, it sounds beautiful.”

Jeremy paused. “I’ve barely heard you laugh?”

“I guess you just haven’t said anything very funny,” Michael remarked. In reality, he didn’t laugh much and wasn’t sure how to respond to being called out for it. 

“I guess I’m only funny to myself,” Jeremy laughed at his own bad joke, which actually made Michael laugh very, very softly. It was endearing that Jeremy laughed at his own jokes. 

“Nah, it’s just… hard to make me laugh,” Michael admitted, not wanting Jeremy to think he was somehow lacking He definitely wasn't, he was so perfect, so beautiful.

But Jeremy heard that tiny chuckle and lit up. “Oh! I did it! Yes!” He was surprisingly pumped to have made Michael laugh, even just a tiny bit. He began to laugh at himself as he realized he basically just screamed, but, oh well, Michael’s laugh was adorable. It was so smooth and soothing, Jeremy could listen to it all day. Michael found Jeremy’s outburst of laughter pretty funny, and he started to laugh, too.

_God, if I could just have this boy for the rest of my life? Please and thank you._

Jeremy’s face started to redden, and Michael thought he was going to die because the red tint made his freckles stand out, freckles he was somehow just now noticing- _why didn’t I see these before?_ \- and freckles he wanted to kiss. He wanted to kiss every single freckle. One by one planting small kisses all over Jeremy’s face and body-

 _Oh._ Michael briefly wondered how far the freckles went down Jeremy’s body. He’d really like to find out. 

At some point, Michael lost his impulse control. He was sure he wasn’t misreading signals, though it was still a possibility, but... Jeremy definitely was interested in him, too. So, he paused walking for a second and-

Lost his nerve.

“How far are we?” He quickly sped up to resume walking as if nothing had happened. Jeremy looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“We’ve got maybe half a mile left, give or take a bit. Why?” 

Half a mile. Michael could do that. _Just… hold off on attacking Jeremy with kisses for another half a mile._

“Just curious,” Michael plastered on a smile. He kept walking like he hadn’t stopped. Maybe if he pretended he didn’t almost just stop and kiss Jeremy right there, it would just never have happened. Time would reverse and fix itself.

Jeremy smiled back, nodding his head with a small giggle. “Okay!” He hummed blissfully.

That half a mile could not go fast enough because, God, Michael just wanted to kiss Jeremy. And now that he’d sort of set a time for when he’d do it, he was growing more and more impatient. His stomach was already doing anticipatory backflips, and he still had so long to go and just deal with that.

Jeremy let out a content sigh as they walked, then yelped as he looked down, lifting his right foot which had almost crushed a small toad.

“Aw!” He smiled, letting go of Michael’s hand and leaning down to gently cup the toad in his hands, showing it to Michael excitedly. “Michael! Look!” Jeremy chirped, and the toad croaked a high pitched little ‘meep’.

And, God, no, that was too cute. That was way too cute, it was going to kill Michael. Jeremy chirped at the toad, and it chirped back. _Jesus Christ._ He had trouble forming words for a moment.

“It’s cute,” he managed to say, which was a massive understatement. Jeremy interacting with the toad was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, nothing could top that, that was it for him. And Jeremy looked so excited by the small creature. Michael carefully reached over and bopped the toad on the head gently. The toad meeped again, bobbing its head.

Jeremy felt his smile grow wider. “Aww!” He giggled, smiling as he ran over to a tree and gently set the toad down, booping its back carefully to send it hopping away. “Goodbye!” He waved his index finger before skipping back to Michael. Michael, who was actually going to die because Jeremy was so cute.

“That was really cute,” Michael blurted out. It could be taken that he was talking about the toad or the whole thing, but he really meant the way Jeremy had handled the creature. His mind was already imagining how Jeremy would be with children in the future- because his heart had already decided he was going to marry this boy- and it made his heart swell.

“Oh! Y-Yeah!.” Jeremy smiled, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. Michael smiled, his face almost sore from all of it.

He could just see it; one day having a family with Jeremy. Just a small house, Jeremy, himself, and a few kids? Ideal. He was so lost in that fantasy that he hardly noticed as they finally started to approach the farmhouse.

Luckily, Jeremy noticed. “We’re almost there!” He pointed ahead of them at his house.

“Oh, cool,” Michael said, though internally he was beginning to freak out again. He really was going to kiss Jeremy in a minute, wasn’t he? Jesus, he’d just met this boy, and he was already thinking about their life together before he’d gotten the nerve to kiss him. He was _so fucked_. 

Once they got closer to the house, Michael stopped them, grabbing Jeremy’s wrist and saying a quick prayer before kissing him. Jeremy yelped, not expecting that at all, but that shock quickly faded into joy. He stood up on his tiptoes and linked his arms around the other’s neck, beginning to play with a lock of Michael's hair, twirling a strand around his finger.

The kiss was _amazing_ by every cliche definition; fireworks and all. And Jeremy couldn’t think of anything else other than how soft Michael’s lips were, willing to hold the kiss until he suffocated, though eventually pulling away, catching his breath with a surprised look.

Michael was so dazed by it that he hardly realized that Jeremy had his arms around his neck, but he did register that Jeremy had pulled away.

“Oh-” he started to panic. “S-Sorry, I just thought-” 

“Michael-”

 _I thought we would like get married and shit-_ “Sorry,” Michael realized how unrealistic his expectations were and how unfair it was to hold Jeremy to them. 

Jeremy shook his head with a laugh, smiling as he did. “Shut up,” he smiled, leaning up once more, connecting their lips in another sweet kiss. He wanted Michael to _know_ he enjoyed the first kiss, so his first instinct was to pull him into another.

Michael jolted. Jeremy was kissing him.

_Jeremy was kissing him-_

It took him a moment, but he was soon kissing back. He placed a hand on the back of Jeremy’s neck, pulling him closer. He never wanted to pull away, but the basic human need to breathe intervened and he pulled away, causing Jeremy to huff a bit indignantly.

“Fuck, I don’t even know your last name,” he blurted it out just as he realized it.

“And I don’t know yours,” Jeremy smiled, then nodded with a chuckle. “Jeremiah _Heere_ , strange last name, I know,” he shrugged, looking up at Michael, “yours?” Whatever his last name was, he could wait to hopefully marry Michael and take his last name. It had to be a lot better than Heere.

“It’s not that weird, it suits you,” he reached out and pushed some of the hair from Jeremy’s face and- _oh, God, his hair is so soft-_ For a second, Michael’s throat was clogged with nothing but garbled sounds about how soft Jeremy’s hair was, and Jeremy started to talk.

“Eh, you don’t want to know how many puns people have made of my last name. At least I’m not Jeremy There-” He snickered, and Michael snickered too. “So, your last name?”

“Michael, uh,” he cleared his throat, “Michael Bell.”

“That’s adorable! Michael Bell!” Jeremy giggled, hesitating before continuing, “You know, I wouldn’t mind being a Jeremy Bell one day…”

Michael’s face heated up so quickly. “I- I wouldn’t mind making you one,” he replied in kind with sparkling eyes. Jeremy smiled impossibly wide.

“That would be amazing,” Jeremy nodded.

Michael let out a few nervous laughs. “Can I-” he swallowed, ceasing the nervous giggles as best as he could. Jeremy just brought it out in him, he didn’t know what to do. “Can I kiss you again?” He was pretty sure he didn’t even have to ask since Jeremy was to receptive the first time and then he’d kissed _Michael_ , but he felt the need to ask.

Jeremy quickly nodded with a smile, laughing as he did. “Michael, you don’t even need to _ask_!” He replied.

“Well, yeah, but I thought-”

He was cut off by Jeremy gently pulling Michael down a bit, connecting their lips with a delighted hum. Michael placed his hands on Jeremy’s hips. And, then, deciding to be a bit daring, he slid his hands up Jeremy’s shirt a bit, causing Jeremy to shudder. Michael sighed into the kiss, feeling Jeremy’s actually pretty cold skin under his fingers. Like, Jesus, Jeremy had to be a dead body to be cold like this, but Michael didn’t mind, relishing the feeling anyway. He pressed himself closer to Jeremy, hands wandering up and down his chest, mapping this new holy land. Jeremy smiled at the feeling, Michael’s hands warm against his chest. 

Michael wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he knew he wanted more. So, he tried licking along Jeremy’s lips, hands coming to rest on his hips. He vaguely realized if this escalated any further, they should probably get somewhere more private, but he couldn’t be bothered with that thought when Jeremy whimpered softly against his lips. Michael melted at the sound. He’d never heard something so _hot_. Jeremy allowed Michael to part his lips, pulling Michael closer as he slipped his tongue into Jeremy’s mouth. He let his tongue explore Jeremy’s mouth, and, God, he thought Jeremy’s _chest_ was a holy land, his _mouth_ , holy fuck. Jeremy let a few moans slip out.

Jeremy had never kissed anyone before, and neither had Michael, so it was a bit sloppy and uncoordinated, but it still felt good nonetheless.

Michael pulled away, aware suddenly that things were getting a bit out of hand. “We’re still kind of, um, standing just outside your house.” Jeremy pouted, but Michael had a good reason. He’d totally forgotten that they were in front of his house.

“Oh, shit-” He mumbled with a chuckle, clinging onto Michael still. As much as he wanted to continue this, they _did_ need to move someplace else. “You want to continue this somewhere other than here? My dad’s inside the house, so…”

Michael knew this was a reckless decision. He’d _just_ met this boy, and just started kissing him. They’d known each other for what, three, four hours? So really, he shouldn’t be agreeing to take this somewhere more private. He knew what that meant. But, God, he wanted Jeremy so badly, and Jeremy seemed to want him, evidenced by the way he still clung to Michael after kissing.

“Yes, please,” he was feeling reckless anyway.

Jeremy nodded eagerly, beginning to hesitate when saying the only place they could take this, snickering as he did, making Michael wonder why he was laughing. “Okay, this sounds stupid, but the _only_ place that’s really private enough to take this to is the cornfield-” he burst into laughter after saying this, resting his head on Michael’s chest as he laughed.

“The- The cornfield?” Michael covered his mouth, laughing with Jeremy. The idea of possibly having _sex_ was wild enough, but having sex _in a cornfield_ was even wilder. And the worst part was, Michael was totally okay with it. Anywhere they could get privacy, he didn’t care.

Jeremy continued to laugh, taking hold of both of Michael’s hands and walking backward slightly. “Shh! C’mon!” He laughed, pulling the two into the cornfield, walking a bit far in just in case. They both pushed some stalks out of the way and flattened out a small enough area to lay in. Michael kissed him, moving them both down to the ground as he did so. Jeremy smiled despite being basically laid onto the dirty ground. His arms almost immediately looped around Michael’s neck, letting out small moans as they kissed. 

It was a bit of a power trip to have Jeremy under him like this, and Michael started to sort of take charge of the situation despite being just as clueless as Jeremy. He moved from Jeremy’s mouth- holy land though it was- to kiss his neck, unintentionally sucking a light and small hickey into the soft skin and causing Jeremy to gasp softly. Michael slid his hands back up Jeremy’s shirt, but this time he pushed the shirt up, getting to see Jeremy’s body. 

Michael left one more unintentional mark on Jeremy’s neck, too caught up in the tiny whimpers and moans Jeremy was making to worry about it, before sitting back. He slid the shirt up further, mumbling, “Can I?” Jeremy nodded quickly and Michael smirked at how eager Jeremy was. He pushed the shirt up and up and off and-

_Wow, he’s beautiful._

And, whoops, Michael had said that out loud. It took him a moment to realize that he had, in fact, just blurted out, “you’re beautiful,” and hadn’t kept that thought in his head, but once he did realize, his face lit up with his embarrassment.

“You’re not too bad yourself…” Jeremy smiled.

“I’m nothing special,” he shrugged, going back to kissing Jeremy’s neck.

“Nope, wrong. You are very special. Extraordinary-” Jeremy’s words were cut off by a sharp gasp as Michael sucked yet another mark into his neck, closer to his collarbone as Michael’s mouth was slowly working its way down his chest. On a whim, Michael took one of Jeremy’s nipples into his mouth and sucked on it. Jeremy responded with more moans and whimpers, tugging on Michael’s hair, which drew a moan out of Michael, shocking himself a little bit. So he didn’t know he liked that, but honestly, he’d probably like _anything_ Jeremy did. 

He kissed down Jeremy’s stomach until he reached his pants. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and looked up Jeremy, silently asking for permission. Jeremy nodded in a hurry almost like if he didn’t respond fast enough Michael would lose his nerve. And, Hell, he still might lose his nerve.

Michael took a breath before sliding Jeremy’s pants down. He pulled them off at his feet, hesitating before setting them down beside them on the ground. 

_God, am I really about to do this in a cornfield?... Yeah, yeah I am._

He imagined telling the story of how they met to their future children, and sheepishly having to leave out this part of the story. The fact that they’d had sex the same day they met, and in a cornfield- Jeremy’s _dad’s_ cornfield. It would be a fun story, though. Jeremy, on the other hand, was sure that if they tried to tell the story, he’d blurt that part out.

Michael leaned back up and started to kiss Jeremy’s stomach and sides. He sat back to look at Jeremy’s boxers, which were tented up slightly. And it was mouthwatering. So, he threw caution to the wind- as if he hadn’t already, having sex in a goddamn cornfield- and put his mouth over the bulge while looking innocently into Jeremy’s eyes to gauge his reaction. Jeremy basically lost all sense of self-control when the warm heat was suddenly pressed against his clothed erection, whimpering and panting while one hand snaked its way into Michael’s hair.

Michael was pretty sure that those noises were good ones, but a small part of him thought maybe he could be wrong. Jeremy did look just the slightest bit uncomfortable, so he sat back, not noticing how disappointed Jeremy looked for a moment.

“Was that-” he had to take a breath suddenly. He didn’t realize how much he was holding his breath during this. “Was that okay?” He put his hands on Jeremy’s waist. If they were going to do this, Michael really wanted to do this _right_. The story was already set up to be crazy, he didn’t want it to be awkward on top of that.

But Jeremy nodded with a breathless chuckle, and Michael sighed with relief. Jeremy actually found it amusing that Michael kept having to ask if he was enjoying this. He thought it was obvious, or maybe Michael was just overthinking. Whatever it was, Jeremy didn’t mind.

Michael slowly pulled down Jeremy’s boxers, inhaling at the sight. Jeremy blushed a pretty deep red, and it only got worse when Michael tentatively wrapped a hand around Jeremy’s cock.

And then Michael slowly took Jeremy’s cock into his mouth, and Jeremy felt so dizzy with pleasure he was sure he was going either pass out or die. He didn’t do either, though, instead he started moaning, loud and sweet. He used the hand in Michael’s hair to grasp onto, drawing a sharp inhale from Michael. He exhaled in a moan, still around Jeremy’s cock, send the vibrations in shockwaves through Jeremy’s body. 

He pulled off for a second, and in his wild, lust-driven mind- the very same one that had decided having sex in a cornfield was a good idea in the first place- he commanded, “Pull my hair.” Jeremy was quick to do as he was told, yanking on the dark brown locks. Michael, in response, went down on him again.

He really was _not_ sure what he was doing, he was just trying to listen to the sounds Jeremy made to figure out what made him moan the loudest. And every time Jeremy pulled on his hair, he moaned around his cock, which seemed to earn him the loudest moans in response. He tried to, in the volume of his own moans, how much more he liked it when Jeremy pulled harder. He hoped he got the message since his mouth was otherwise occupied at the moment.

Michael ran his hands down Jeremy’s legs, rubbing the insides of Jeremy’s thighs, earning him a more than positive reaction. Jeremy tightened his grip on his hair, gasping between moans as he practically melted under the touch. Jeremy’s little whines and whimpers were going straight to Michael’s dick, reminding him of how _painfully_ full clothed he still was.

“M-Michael-” Jeremy moaned. _That sound has to be illegal,_ Michael thought. “I- Fuck, Michael p-please-” he practically choked out his words, breathing heavily as he did. Michael hollowed his cheeks for a second before pulling off.

“What do you want, Jeremy?” He asked, his voice low and unintentionally raspy. “You have to tell me.” Jeremy actually stopped to think about that while he caught his breath. He wanted Michael, plain and simple.

It took him another moment of catching his breath before he spoke. “-You.” Michael huffed a half-laugh, too distracted by the rush of heat that Jeremy’s words sent through his body. He leaned down and kissed the inside of Jeremy’s thigh, taking any breath Jeremy had just caught in stride.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” he said, despite knowing what Jeremy was asking for, he didn’t have to be more specific, but Michael really wanted to hear it. Maybe make Jeremy beg for it. Tease him for being so desperate. He kissed Jeremy's thigh again while he waited for an answer, biting down a bit and sucking a new bruise there. Jeremy was temporarily reduced to a mess of moans and even a few squeaks.

His first attempt to answer was cut short by Michael biting in another place on his thigh, a bit higher up. His second attempt was a bit more successful, though he stuttered. “Mi-chael! Just f-fuck me-” Michael growled low in his throat, and Jeremy would do anything to hear that sound again. Jeremy had said exactly what Michael wanted to hear, but the urge to tease was too strong.

“Right here?” He ran a hand high up Jeremy’s thigh. “Are you so desperate you can’t wait until we have some alone time in the house?” He teased, while also trying to work out the logistics of this in his head. He didn’t know much, honestly, but he knew enough to know that they needed some kind of lubricant. And there nothing like that to be found amongst the corn. While he thought, he sat back and shucked off his own shirt, trying to balance out the clothing situation.

“ _Yes_ , here,” Jeremy huffed at the obvious teasing. He didn’t have the vocabulary at the moment to explain to Michael that his dad would always be in the house, there was no privacy there to be found.

Michael growled again at Jeremy’s insistence, and Jeremy was sure he was going to melt. He honestly didn’t want to wait until the house was empty, he wanted Jeremy _now_. He moved back up Jeremy’s body and pulled him into a rough kiss that was immediately reciprocated. He licked his way into Jeremy’s mouth, both of them letting out some indecent noises.

Michael pulled away, panting a bit while he considered their options and which would turn Jeremy on the most before deciding. He reached up to Jeremy’s mouth, prodding his fingers at it and commanding in a low, gravelly voice.

“Suck,” he really hoped he wasn’t overstepping his sort of dominant persona; Jeremy seemed to be enjoying it, but he didn’t want to push too far. But Jeremy was quick to obey and take Michael’s fingers into his mouth and suck obscenely.

Michael choked on a moan. He shouldn’t be so shocked by it since he’d _told_ Jeremy to do it, but it sent a jolt through his body. He purposely spread his fingers inside Jeremy’s mouth, Jeremy’s tongue lapping around every finger.

Once Michael was sure each finger was thoroughly coated in spit- pretty gross, but it was their best option here- he pulled them out of Jeremy’s mouth and Jeremy wiped his mouth off.

“Are you still sure about this?” He felt the need to ask again before they went any further.

“Michael, yes. I’m positive,” but then the thought occurred to him; what if Michael was the one who was actually uncomfortable? “Unless you aren’t okay with this I mean-” he added in a hurry.

Michael swallowed hard. Was he okay with this? Was he constantly asking Jeremy because he wasn’t?

“No- I’m okay with this. More than okay, I’m just- scared,” he admitted. And it was true. He wanted this, wanted _Jeremy_ , but he couldn’t help but be scared. This was nerve-wracking. “I want this,” Michael said with a more steady, assured voice, kissing Jeremy’s neck softly.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jeremy smiled softly, the end of his sentence turning in a soft whine. Michael nodded, moving his spit-slicked fingers down, pressing one against Jeremy’s entrance gently. He looked up again at Jeremy, silently asking if this was okay. Jeremy nodded, too breathless to find words at the moment.

“I don’t want to hurt you…” Michael mumbled softly before gently _very_ gently working his finger in. Jeremy made a small noise, his body adjusting to the feeling. Michael stopped at each knuckle, giving Jeremy a chance to adjust before pushing into the next knuckle until his whole finger was inside of him. He kept kissing Jeremy’s neck, providing the needed distraction from the brief bite of pain for Jeremy. Eventually, though, the breathy whines turned into needy moans and Michael repeated the slow process to add another finger, and after a minute a third followed.

“Is this okay?” Michael asked softly, pausing his fingers. He was really scared of hurting Jeremy. He took some comfort in the moans, clear signs that Jeremy was enjoying this, but he really needed to hear it. Especially before he went any further.

Jeremy was almost too caught up in the pleasure to register any pain. He gave Michael a nod, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Michael, I’m _fine_ ,” he said insistently, wanting Michael to go back to fingerfucking him.

“Okay, okay,” Michael nodded. He started to thrust his fingers again, curling and spreading them gently, watching Jeremy’s face carefully as he moaned encouragingly. Michael was just… so nervous. He’d literally just met Jeremy and his heart had decided _yep, this is your soulmate now_ , and Michael was scared of doing anything that could ruin it. Meeting Jeremy was the best thing to ever happen to him in his otherwise dreary life, and as much as he wanted this, the sex, he wanted Jeremy in general more. And if that meant stopping right now? He absolutely would.

He could tell, though, that Jeremy was getting a bit tired of him asking this was okay constantly and tried to swallow the question back down. He’d just have to assume things were okay unless Jeremy said otherwise. And he really hoped that if something wasn’t okay, Jeremy _would_ tell him.

“Michael…” Jeremy moaned and Michael had to take a breath to steady himself. The way Jeremy moaned his name, _God_ , that sound, he’d never get over that sound.

Jeremy, if asked, would say that he wanted to marry Michael from the moment he met him. But they were fifteen and neither had ever been in a relationship before. Hopefully, this would turn out like all the stories he was told by his father when he was young. He wanted that happily ever after.

Michael slowly removed his fingers, pausing before wiping them on his pants and then moving to take off his pants anyway. Which took longer than expected, honestly, because he was so clouded with lust that it took him a moment to remember how to undo buttons. Once he had it undone, he slid himself out of his pants and then underwear. He leaned up and kissed Jeremy on the neck, and Jeremy gasped at the contact. 

“You can tell me to stop anytime, okay?” He mumbled against Jeremy’s skin. Jeremy nodded eagerly, unable to find the strength in his voice to muster up words. Michael lined himself up with Jeremy’s entrance and slowly pushed in, stopping about halfway to remind himself to _breathe_ , listening to the loud moan that erupted from Jeremy. Michael was pretty sure he could come just from listening to Jeremy’s moans, the way he sounded was just heavenly.

It was painful at first, but easy enough to adjust to when Michael was so gently about it, and once Jeremy was adjusted he couldn’t help but rock his hips into Michael’s, a choked moan coming from him. Michael had been hesitant to push all the way in, but then Jeremy rolled his hips again and he gave in to the feeling, pushing further in until he bottomed out.

“Jesus-” Michael choked out. There was a pressure steadily growing in his groin, being, well, a weak virgin. But he tried to force it down for as long as possible. Jeremy had been feeling it for awhile, just barely managing to stave it off as Michael started to thrust carefully into him, waiting for Jeremy’s command to do anything more.

Jeremy continued to roll his hips against Michael’s, the two finding a lulling rhythm together that was pulling them both apart the longer it went on. Michael knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, so he wrapped a loose fist around Jeremy’s cock and started to pump in time with the slow thrusts. Jeremy felt like he couldn’t moan any louder at this point, he was practically screaming in pleasure. He instinctively buried his face in Michael’s shoulder to muffle the moans. 

“Jer- Jeremy- I’m not-” he grunted, somewhere before moaning and saying something, “gonna last much longer…”

Jeremy nodded rapidly, trying to get his point across since his vocabulary had been narrowed to almost nothing but Michael’s name. He finally felt an attempt at a sentence crawl its way up his throat. “M-Me neither-” he practically choked out, continuing to roll into Michael, whining each time he did. 

Michael breathed out shakily, the sound turning into a slight moan at the end. “Jeremy,” he moaned, dropping his head into the crook of Jeremy’s neck. He started messily pressing his lips against Jeremy’s neck, not paying attention to anything other than the thrusting and pumping actions he was doing. “I’m-” he stuttered, his hips getting out of rhythm, “Jeremy,” he settled for moaning Jeremy’s name over trying to form a sentence. Jeremy drank in the sound, letting out his own pleased moan in response.

Michael couldn’t hold it back anymore and came with a strangled sound from the back of his throat. He slowed the thrusts to a stop but kept pumping his hand over Jeremy’s cock. Jeremy had surprised himself already by how long he’d been able to hold back. It was kind of a godsend because hearing Michael moan as he came was like a dream. He quickly bit down on his lip and buried his face in Michael’s shoulder, letting out another loud moan as he came.

Michael panted heavily, slowing his hand before taking it off and slowly pulling out. “Fuck,” he mumbled, looking at his hand and Jeremy’s stomach and legs which all had come on them. “Uh,” he awkwardly wiped his hand on the ground, “so…”

He almost wanted to die of embarrassment now that the lust was out of his system, He wasn’t sure what to say or do, hell, he was supposed to be here for _work_. And he ended up having sex with his employer. Losing his virginity to his employer. _What the fuck am I doing?_

Jeremy was similarly lost in a moment of retrospect. _We just fucked. In my dad’s cornfield. What-_ Admittedly, the thought makes him giggle, and that bubbled into full-blown laughter.

Michael was pulled from his thoughts by Jeremy _laughing_. He flushed hot with embarrassment. “W-What’re you laughing about? What’s f-funny?” He started to worry that the sex was that bad for Jeremy that he found it laughable. God, he didn’t want to lose this boy just yet. He didn’t want to have already messed this up.

Jeremy looked at Michael with another giggle. “What _isn’t_? We just fucked in my _dad’s_ cornfield-” Jeremy snorted, covering his mouth as he continued to laugh. He’d never laugh so hard in his entire life. “Sorry, sorry, sorry-” but he didn’t stop laughing. Michael’s eyes went wide and face even redder before he started to laugh, too. It was a pretty ridiculous situation. And Jeremy’s laugh was a bit contagious. Michael couldn’t help that it was so adorable and made him want to start kissing Jeremy again.

They both laid there, laughing like a pair of idiots until they both calmed down.

“That was nice, though…” Jeremy hummed, shucking a layer off of one of the corn stalks they’d crushed already and using it to wipe up the mess.

“Yeah?” Michael sat up, grabbing his underwear and sliding back into them before looking for the rest of his clothing. He passed Jeremy his clothes. “Uh, is your dad gonna notice…” he gestured to the small twin bed-sized area of flattened corn they’d created.

Oh, right, the corn. Jeremy had to swallow another bout of giggles. “No, he can’t work in the fields, that’s why I do it. Takes awhile, yeah, but I can’t help that,” he shrugged. _Maybe I should explain that?_ “My dad has polio so-” he sniffed awkwardly. It wasn’t an _‘oh, I’m about to cry, so comfort me,_ it was more of an _‘I don’t talk about this much,_ sort of sniff.

His father had gotten polio a few years ago, when Jeremy was only twelve- _has it really been three years already?_ \- and it had started with his left leg. Jeremy had insisted, of course, that his father rest before it got any worse. But soon, the other leg followed and his dad was now left completely paralyzed below the waist and totally bedridden as a result.

“Oh,” Michael said and then- “ _Oh-_ ” he reached out and touched Jeremy’s shoulder, unsure how to act.

He’d never dealt with someone getting sick like that, he had no concept of how much that hurt. And he didn’t really know what exactly polio was, it was one of those far-away diseases that you heard about, but never really encountered. But from the look on Jeremy’s face, it was pretty serious. And whatever it was, it prevented Jeremy’s dad from working in the fields with him anymore. It wasn’t like there were many doctors in the area, so even if there was some way to get better from it- but again, judging by Jeremy’s face, it was probably terminal- they wouldn’t have access to it.

“It’s okay, Jer, I’m sure… everything will be fine,” Michael lied to try and be comforting.

Jeremy shook his head with a small smile. “It’s fine, really,” he reassured, gently pressing his cheek against Michael’s hand. It was warm. “I already know this probably won’t end well, but it’s nice to have chats with him.”

“I guess you have him now,” Michael said. Jeremy seemed so resigned, it was kind of sad to see. “And I wouldn’t mind meeting him?” He squeaked out the last part. He wasn’t sure if Jeremy and he were a ‘thing’ or not, but either way, he should meet the man who was _technically_ his employer, since he was the actual owner of the farm. And if they _were_ a thing, he wanted to meet his boyfriend(?)’s dad.

 

Speaking of, he wondered if Jeremy would want to meet his parents. How would they handle it? He knew they loved him, but… he was still young and to say he was already in love with a boy they’d never met would be a shock was an understatement.

Jeremy, though, gave a small smile at Michael’s interest, nodding. “Yeah! He’d love that, and so would I! He doesn’t get many visitors if I’m honest, so you’ll be a refreshing sight to him!” Jeremy laughed a bit. He grabbed and slipped his shirt back on as well as his shorts. In his mind, he and Michael were definitely a thing now. It wasn’t something he was concerned with in the way Michael was.

“Cool,” Michael smiled, “can’t wait to meet him.” Once Jeremy finished dressing, Michael reached over and ran a hand through his sex-tousled hair to make it look less obvious that they’d just had sex. “You’re really cute,” he commented fondly. Jeremy hummed.

But, the question still bothered Michael. Were they dating or was that just a fluke, a fun fling before they went to work and weren’t involved with each other anymore. He didn’t want that, he wasn’t ready to let go of Jeremy just yet. Jeremy was so _radiant_ and _cute_ and he made Michael’s heart pound no matter what it was he was doing.

Michael coughed. “Um- this is kind of awkward, but,” he gestured his hands vaguely, “um, are we dating or…?” _Or was that just sex and am I going to have to let go of you already?_

Jeremy responded almost immediately, with a radiant smile. “Yes! Yes, Michael, yes,” he laughed and Michael laughed, the sounds mixing into a lilting melody. Jeremy smiled as he threw his arms around Michael’s neck, placing an adoring kiss on his lips, leaving Michael a bit breathless again. “Yes, yes, yes, _yes_!”

Michael felt himself sigh with relief, putting his hands on Jeremy’s waist to hold him closer. His chest felt warm and his head felt light. If this was love, it was intoxicating and he wanted more, more, _more_. More of Jeremy close to him, more kisses, more of this affection. He wondered if Jeremy was feeling the same warmth. He hoped so.

But then the doubt started to work its way under his skin. What if Jeremy wasn’t feeling it? What if he’d fallen to ridiculously fast for someone to keep up? It was silly how quickly he’d fallen, and really, why would someone so radiant and beautiful ever spare Michael a second glance? Even though Jeremy had seemed thrilled to say yes to them dating, he still wondered. Maybe he was just doing that to make Michael feel better, or maybe he just kind of liked Michael, but it would fade. Maybe Michael was just something to pass the time for Jeremy. He was crazy to already be picturing a future with this boy he just met, he was batshit insane, and he couldn’t expect Jeremy to subscribe to that same brand of insanity.

He cleared his throat, shaking himself from his thoughts. “So, could we go inside now? Or should we,” he gestured around to the field, “work?”

Jeremy shook his head. “We can start working tomorrow, it’s fine,” admittedly, he might have said that because he was sore from their little romp, but that was his own secret. He laughed, grabbing Michael’s arm. “C’mon!” Jeremy pulled Michael by the arm, similar to how he’d done before, and Michael couldn’t stop thinking.

He could do this forever, he could follow Jeremy to the ends of the Earth. Watching him in all his radiance, laughing and looking at Michael, Michael of all people, with bright, affectionate blue eyes. He could stay in this moment for the rest of his life.

He remembered Jeremy calling him an angel and thought he’d gotten it all wrong. Surely it was Jeremy who was the angel. No human could contain such beauty in just their eyes, let alone the beauty everywhere else. Jeremy was definitely an angel. And Michael should be so lucky to be dragged along by the arm by an angel. And he had to be absolutely blessed that this angel somehow agreed to _date_ him. 

Michael let Jeremy pull him up to the house before nerves set in. What would Jeremy’s dad think of him? What would he look like? Would he disapprove of them dating? Surely he could see that Jeremy was dating down; an unkempt and messy looking boy from the slums. He’d never approve of their relationship-

Jeremy stepped inside the tiny house and almost immediately shouted, “Pa! I’m home!” He seemed so happy, like the moment he walked in he felt at peace. He quickly ran down the hall into his father’s room, sitting down near the edge of the bed while Michael stood awkwardly off to the side. Jeremy leaned down and hugged his father. 

“Hey, Jerbear!” His father chimed, squeezing Jeremy in a bone-crushing hug with surprising strength. 

“Dad- please don’t kill me-” Jeremy wheezed from the pressure, and his father quickly withdrew.

“Oh, sorry-”

“I brought someone over!” Jeremy quickly chimed in, gesturing to Michael, who shifted awkwardly.

“Oh? Who’s this?” Mr. Heere smiled warmly.

Michael had been caught up in watching them interact, it was so pure and adorable he could almost forget that he’d just fucked this man’s son in his cornfield- _stop that thought, just smile and introduce yourself_.

“Um, hi,” _yes, hello, I just met, fucked, and started dating your son within the last three hours or so._ Jesus, he was glad he had a filter to stop thoughts like that from meeting the world. No one needed to hear that.

Jeremy smiled brightly, quickly helping his father when he tried to sit up. 

“Hello! And you are?” Mr. Heere asked, but Jeremy answered for him.

“Michael Bell,” Jeremy seemed so excited to introduce him. Michael was amazing to him, the best thing to happen to him in a long time, so this _was_ exciting.

“Ah, a fine young man, it’s nice to meet you,” Mr. Heere chimed in, holding out a hand to shake which Michael took. Jeremy was _beaming_ watching them interact; his two favorite people in the world.

“Thank you, it’s, um, nice to meet you too,” Michael said as he shook Mr. Heere’s hand. He wasn’t sure what were the proper manners for this situation, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess it up. He then looked over at Jeremy and felt his heart swell at the sight. Jeremy looked incandescently happy, so Michael must be doing _something_ right. He didn’t even realize that Mr. Heere could easily tell by the way they looked at each other that they were romantic.

Michael was still worried about telling him, though, and Mr. Heere disapproving for any reason. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was forced to leave Jeremy. Probably cry, which wasn’t something he did very often, and cry a lot.

“So,” Mr. Heere cleared his throat, “you boys fond of each other?”

Jeremy just nodded happily, though in his head he was thinking _yeah, so much we just fucked in our cornfield-_ but he knew better than to open his mouth while that thought was still on his mind, so he just kept nodding. 

Michael, on the other hand, turned bright red. _’Fond of each other’ is an understatement_ , but he wasn’t going to say anything like that out loud. “Yeah, um,” he nodded with Jeremy, smiling a bit sheepishly. He tried to ignore, at least for a moment, Jeremy staring at him like he was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. If he paid any attention to it, he might spontaneously combust right there. And that wouldn’t be a good first impression. He kind of wanted to take Jeremy’s and right then, too, and squeeze it for comfort. He was still really nervous and now that Mr. Heere at least had an understanding of what they were, it was even scarier waiting for the guillotine to drop.

But it never did. Mr. Heere nodded with a soft expression, the situation so obvious to him. “I’m glad… It’s nice to know you’re talking again, Jer.”

Jeremy shifted a bit. “Mhm,” he replied in a hum. 

Michael frowned. “Talking… again?” He asked softly, looking at Jeremy with worry. _What did that mean?_ He felt worry blossoming in his chest, worry for Jeremy. What did he go through that silenced such a brilliant boy? And what had made him speak again? Then he realized maybe Jeremy didn’t want to talk about it, and maybe he’d just overstepped his boundaries, overstayed his welcome already. And Jeremy wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore. He wished he could go back in time for a moment and seal his lips. Ask again later if Jeremy ever brought it up and was willing to talk about it. He was such an idiot.

Jeremy just looked at Michael with a small shake of his head. He definitely didn’t want to get onto that topic right now. “It’s fine,” he said rather quickly with a shrug, a sense of dismissiveness he’d meant to aim at the event, but Michael interpreted it as being directed at him. He clamped his mouth firmly shut, feeling sufficiently dismissed.

“Alright, you two go do whatever,” Mr. Heere chuckled. Jeremy nodded before hugging his father.

“Thanks, Pa,” he smiled contentedly, standing from the hug and taking Michael by the arm.

“It was nice meeting you, Michael.” 

“You too,” Michael said quietly. He tried to drown his worry by watching Jeremy and his father interact. They defined the ideal small family unit; loving and there for each other to a fault. It was touching enough that Michael could almost forget that he’d messed up.

“I’ll be back later, alright?” Jeremy said and Mr. Heere nodded in approval. “Get some rest. Bye, I love you!”

“Love you too!” And with that, Jeremy walked them out of the room.

“Your dad seems really nice,” Michael said once they were out of the room. His own father wasn’t _mean_ by any stretch of the word, but he wasn’t quite as openly affectionate. He was more the type to show his affection in little actions, like making sure Michael wore a jacket in the winter and that any leftover food went to Michael before anyone else. He kind of liked the way Jeremy and his dad were, though.

“Yeah! He’s really great, I love him a lot,” Jeremy beamed, unaware of the pit of doubt he’d unintentionally thrown Michael into. The more Jeremy thought about it himself, though, he figured Michael _should_ know the story. “Hey, um, you want to know about the whole talking thing, right?” He asked a bit abruptly. He wanted Michael to know what happened. It really was better for him to _talk_ about it rather than ignoring it all the time.

Michael’s head whipped up at the suggestion. “No, no, I mean, it’s your business, if you don’t want to talk about it you shouldn’t have to,” he started to ramble, waving his hands in front of him. “I shouldn’t have asked, it’s not my place to ask, I don’t want to invade your privacy or anything,” _please don’t hate me for asking, it was stupid, I’m sorry._ His brain whirred, making him feel a bit dizzy with the mix of rambling and running thoughts. “-Sorry, I mean. Sorry for asking. It’s none of my business,” he finally said, forcing himself to end his rambling, though he could stop his thoughts.

_You’ve made a fool of yourself now. Why did he even want you in the first place? He’s going to leave you now._

Jeremy shook his head. “Oh, no, no, no! It just-” he inhaled and shook his head before continuing, “I haven’t talked about it in-” he shrugged with a small laugh, “a long time. It’s just- ever since my dad… you know,” he coughed before continuing, “ I just didn’t like the way things were, I didn’t really have to talk to so I didn’t bother…” Jeremy shrugged, drawing closer to Michael before clinging to his arm. “Things just got harder really suddenly and I wasn’t ready for it.”

“I’m sorry, Jer…” Michael mumbled, unsure what else to do or say. Jeremy didn’t seem to hate him, though, leaning on his arm. He ran a hand through Jeremy’s hair. “Sounds rough…” He knew better, at least, than to ask about Jeremy’s mom. She clearly wasn’t in the picture and would probably be another sensitive topic. “But you’re through it now, and talking again,” 

Michael tried to lighten the dark mood, “that’s good.” He sighed, content to just keep Jeremy leaning on him like this.

Jeremy shrugged with a smile, looking up at Michael’s beautiful eyes, letting out a faint chuckle as he did. “Yeah, it’s done with.”

“What time is it?” Michael asked, remembering that he had to get home before dusk. His parents might already be worried. Jeremy looked at the clock.

“It’s around-” Jeremy squinted, “five o’ seven?” Jeremy looked back up at Michael. “I’m assuming you’re going to be leaving soon?”

Michael sighed. “Yeah, I’ve gotta get home,” and hopefully not have to explain to his parents that he spent most of the day flirting with and fucking this boy he just met.

“I can walk you back to town if you’d like?” Jeremy offered. Honestly, he _wanted_ to go with Michael. It would be nice to walk with him again. Michael smiled brightly at the suggestion.

“Yes, yeah, I’d love that,” Michael took Jeremy’s hand and squeezed, making Jeremy blush a tiny bit, before heading towards the door with him. Jeremy opened the front door with a smile, leading the two towards the path they’d come from.

In a split second, Jeremy’s foot got caught on a pebble and he fell to the ground with a screech. 

“Oh my god-” Michael tried, and failed, to catch him.

He landed right on his face, but sat up quickly and held a hand to his nose, which was now bleeding. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, _ow_ ,” he whined.

Michael quickly dropped down to his knees next to him. “Shit, are you okay?” He reached up and wiped some of the blood from Jeremy’s nose.

“Hello, yes, I’m very hot and flattering, how are you today?” Jeremy huffed, and Michael laughed softly. “But I’m okay.”

“Hey, I’ve had worse,” and he had; he sort of got into fights a lot. Most were little scuffles and skirmishes where one punch was thrown and both parties were done, but Michael had been in a few really, really bad fights before. “Here, tilt your head forward a bit,” Michael gently took Jeremy’s chin and tipped his head forward, “this is how you stop a nosebleed.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy said softly, letting Michael move his head without resistance. He took Michael’s hand and held it. Michael smiled softly. _This boy is so cute._

“Of course, Jer,” he stood up, using Jeremy’s grip on his hand to lift him to his feet. He double checked that Jeremy’s nose wasn’t bleeding anymore- it was really minor to begin with, so it had stopped pretty quickly. “Are you okay to keep walking now…?” He didn’t want to assume anything, but Jeremy seemed fine now and he really had to get home as soon as possible.

“Yeah! I’m ready! Sorry about that by the way,” Jeremy added with a slightly nervous giggle.

“No big deal, not like you _wanted_ to fall,” Michael shrugged and Jeremy laughed. He kept a pretty firm grip on Michael’s hand as they walked, small content hums being heard from Jeremy every now and then. And Michael was content to hold Jeremy’s hand and walk in silence. It was a comfortable silence and they are both so _happy_.

Michael hadn’t felt so happy in a long time. It felt like Jeremy had unthawed his emotions and suddenly warmed his heart. Definitely not a bad thing, though, quite the opposite. 

“Isn’t it funny we just met today?” Jeremy suddenly asked, looking up at Michael with eyes full of affection. Michael floundered a bit under the gaze, having to look away and swallow before he could speak.

“It really is crazy, isn’t it?” Once he got the words out, he looked back at Jeremy and returned the affectionate look. 

“And I’ve already thought about our lives in the future- that is, _if_ we stay together…?” Jeremy said, the last part coming off almost scared sounding.

“No, I- I want that too,” Michael nodded, thinking maybe it wasn’t such an unrealistic idea if they were both seeing it, “I want a future with you, and stuff,” he mumbled the last bit. He _was_ still a teenager who was inarticulate with his feelings and dampened things with _‘or something’_ or _‘and stuff.’_

“It would be just _us_ ,” Jeremy gushed, smiling brightly, “and us… and us would be nice. It would be nice,” he sighed happily, squeezing Michael’s hand and receiving a responding squeeze.

Michael nodded, smiling so wide “Yeah! It would.”

“I love you, Michael, I love you so much,” Jeremy muttered in a not-so-quiet voice, sounding and feeling genuine and content.

Michael didn’t even hesitate. “I love you, too,” his face flushed, but not from fear; he wasn’t afraid of love, it made him feel warm and happy inside.

“I’m so glad I met you, so, so glad,” Jeremy practically whispered, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder as they walked. 

“Yeah I mean,” Michael almost laughed, “imagine if you never stopped me in the town square?” In one simple action, Jeremy had changed both of their lives forever.

Jeremy laughed, too. What if he didn’t stop Michael? “It would be… a scary ass future, I can tell you that much,” he chuckled, still holding tight to Michael’s hand. Michael laughed. He didn’t really want to think about it either. It would’ve been really _really_ boring.

Sure, he might not have to deal with Jeremy’s cold-ass hands all over him at all times, but he was willing to trade some body-heat for the warmth in his chest.

“I can’t wait to see what the future looks like!” Jeremy chirped contentedly, running his thumb over the top of Michael’s hand, pressing a gentle kiss to Michael’s cheek, making Michael flush.

“Yeah, me neither,” Michael smiled blissfully. Whatever the future held, they’d get through it together. 

It seemed to be all too soon that they reached the town square where Jeremy had agreed to drop Michael off. Michael sighed.

“I guess we’re here then,” he turned to face Jeremy, taking his other hand in his. “I’ll see you later, okay?” And he leaned in and gave a quick kiss. “I love you.”

Jeremy smiled at the quick kiss, the sensation still on his lips. He let out a contented hum. “Bye, Micha. I love you, too.”

* * *

Time had passed. Two years, to be exact. Jeremy grew older, so did Michael. 

They worked in the fields every day, occasionally had a few sloppy make-outs here and there. Normal boyfriend stuff.

But, one particular day was off. Jeremy's father had been acting a bit strangely lately. Sleeping in for longer amounts, his skin growing pale, his breathing ragged. Michael would always say he was such a strong man, and Jeremy knew that as well, but a strong man wouldn't have to heave in order to breathe- that wasn't normal.

"Pa! I just dropped Michael off! Sorry, I came home late!" He said, skipping into the kitchen to make his father dinner.

No response.

Nothing like 'I'm glad you had a good day, Jer!' or 'Tell me all about it over dinner!' Nothing like the usual greeting he received every day. Jeremy sighed at the sudden silence. He was probably asleep. 

It was about thirty minutes that had passed once Jeremy had cleaned up, taking the two plates to his father's room, before stopping. 

Staring.

Crying.

He threw the plates behind him and rushed to his father. He wasn't moving, nor did it look like he was breathing. 

Jeremy quickly felt his fingers. Cold as ice.

He held his father's hand tightly with broken sobs.

"Dad! Dad, please say something- Dear lord dad this isn't funny!" He repeated with sobs, hot tears leaving bright red marks down his cheeks as he shook his father, eventually just sobbing into his chest. "-Dad, wake up, dammit. You always do..." He whimpered, wrapping his arms around his father helplessly.

He was gone. 

He was gone and Jeremy wasn't even there with him when he passed. He wasn't there to give him the reassurance he should have. To tell him how much he meant to Jeremy. How much Jeremy loved him. How much he cared about him and how much he would miss him. He wished Michael was here. Michael always knew how to comfort him.

"I'm sorry-" He choked out- inhaling sharply as he pulled his father into a tight hug.

"I love you and I'm sorry..."

* * *

Michael was blissfully unaware of what was happening, just setting down for a family dinner with his parents. His mom was a really great cook, and she knew how to make a large meal out of the little they had. Michael always tried to help out where he could and set the table.

Jeremy had joined a few times over the two years they’d been dating- he was always hesitant to and it was always planned far in advance so Jeremy could prepare food for his father so he didn’t go without because he couldn’t move to cook. 

And Michael’s Mom adored Jeremy, patting him on the head a lot as she walked by with a plate of food. It made Michael extremely happy to see, an easy rhythm of family setting in for them. 

His parents had gotten to meet Mr. Heere once. It wasn’t easy for them to both find a time where they didn’t have to work and could spend the day traveling to the Heere household and back. Jeremy had looked indescribably happy (Michael might have stared at him the entire time, he was just magnetic); everyone got along and there was a sort of understanding between the two boys’ parents. They knew their kids were in love without even having to ask.

Over the course of two years, the two families merged. Michael spent a lot more time at Jeremy’s place, again so Jeremy could care for his dad at the same time, but Michael’s parents were supportive.

“There we go, Mom,” Michael announced as he set the last plate down.

“Thank you, Mike,” she hummed, taking the food she’d made and dishing it out in careful portions onto the plates. There wasn’t much to go around, but Michael didn’t miss the way his parents both willingly took smaller portions for him. Some days, he’d switch the plates when no one was looking. 

And he was just about to do that, almost caught red-handed, when the door swung open without knocking and there was Jeremy. Sobbing.

“Jeremy?” Michael ran over to him in a panic. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

Jeremy had run through the woods, the quickest way he knew to get to Michael’s place, so he was breathless along with the sobbing.

As soon as Michael was within arm’s reach, Jeremy grabbed him. “He’s dead- he died and I wasn’t even there to say goodbye, or tell him how great he was-” he practically choked on his words, sobbing into Michael’s shoulder. Michael was stunned, not able to form any words and just pulling Jeremy closer and rubbing slow circles on his back. “I’m sorry- I just- needed to see you- I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something…”

Since Michael was still in stunned silence, it was Mrs. Bell who spoke up. “You’re not interrupting, Jeremy, you’re always welcome,” she stood, maintaining her motherly calm, “and this is a good reason.” She walked over to the two boys, both of which being sons to her even if not by blood, and wrapped her arms around Jeremy along with Michael. 

“Yeah…” Michael said though he sounded far away. It still wasn’t setting in for him that Mr. Heere- a second father to him- was gone.

Mrs. Bell stepped away, leaving the two boys still embracing. “I’ll go put things away unless you still have your appetite?” Michael shook his head and she nodded. “It can all be kept for later,” she turned back to the kitchen- which was really just a small section of their three-room house.

Michael didn’t even realize he was crying, too, until the tears fell off his chin. He pulled back just a tiny bit from Jeremy, wiping the tears from Jeremy’s face carefully. He wasn’t sure what to say. He knew the answer to any question he could think of.

 _Are you okay?_ No, obviously not. _Do you want to stay the night?_ He might have to stay for more than just that. _What happened?_ Polio, of course. What else?

He stood there like that for a long time, or at least it felt like they did. 

Jeremy moved in the next day, the atmosphere of the house still sluggish and mourning.

* * *

It took awhile, but things did get back to ‘normal.’ They all found their rhythm again as a family, and the atmosphere went back to the warm, loving air it once was.

It was always understood by everyone in the home that Jeremy and Michael wound get married someday, but it wasn’t until they turned nineteen that something was set.

“Jeremy?” Michael rolled over in their shared bed to face him.

“Mm?”

“Let’s get married,” he started to play with Jeremy’s hair. There was no doubt in his mind that Jeremy would agree. 

Jeremy didn’t appear outwardly shocked or thrilled, but inwardly he was screaming with joy. This was what he’d wanted for so long. “Okay. When?”

Michael paused. He hadn’t thought it that far ahead. “Uh… next autumn,” Jeremy would be twenty by then, and Michael would be very close to it. It seemed like a good time.

“Okay,” Jeremy kissed him on the forehead softly. “Do we have to get up already?”

“Unfortunately,” Michael smiled, knowing neither of them were morning people.

“Ugh,” Jeremy drew out the sound to express how much he did not want to get up and Michael laughed at him. “Don’t laugh at my suffering, what kind of fiancé are you?” 

_Fiancé_. Michael could get used to that. He could also get used to husband.

“One who loves you,” he kissed Jeremy’s forehead, “and supports you,” his nose, “and needs you to get out of bed.”

Jeremy hummed. He was pretty accustomed to waking up to Michael’s kisses, but he still loved it. He loved how adoring Michael was, even four years in. He loved how consistently sweet and caring he was. And that was not to mention his looks, which Jeremy loved, too. He was beautiful all over, and Jeremy had spent several nights worshipping his body.

He was so insanely lucky to have landed such a perfect man.

“You get up first,” he said to that perfect man. And Michael laughed.

“Alright, alright, but you’re getting up first tomorrow,” Michael said, though they both knew it wasn’t true. He’d said it almost every morning since Jeremy moved in, and every morning he got up first.

He swung his legs over the edge of their bed, standing up and stretching. Jeremy stayed in the bed, admiring Michael’s body as he stretched. How the hell did he get so lucky again?

Michael turned around to see his fiancé- _fiancé_ \- still lazing around in bed and just staring him like he was some kind of god to be worshipped.

“C’mon, Jer,” he yawned, “I’m up, look,” he held out his arms as if to say ‘I’m up,’ but ended up giving Jeremy a full view of his bare chest which he very much appreciated.

“I know. You’re just really beautiful,” Jeremy hummed, scooting over to the edge of the bed and standing up to face a very red-faced Michael.

Jeremy _loved_ how easy it was to make Michael blush. Despite all these years, he still got flustered over a single compliment.

“You in there, angel?” Jeremy waved a hand in front of Michael’s face, making Michael jump.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get dressed,” Michael turned around to grab a shirt from their pile of clothes.

At some point his clothes had blended in with Jeremy’s and they wore each other’s shirts interchangeably. The only thing they couldn’t share was pants, since Jeremy was just a few inches shorter than Michael, and that made all the difference when it came to clothes.

They dressed and headed out of their room.

* * *

“Jeremy, can you come here a second?” Mrs. Bell called out from her room. Jeremy obediently went, peaking in before stepping past the door.

“Yes?”

“Sit,” she pointed to the bed and Jeremy did as told. “I know you and Michael have been talking about getting married, and I think we all kind of _knew_ that you guys would someday, but…” she trailed off, walking over to grab something, “I want you to have these,” she set two small metal bands in his hand. 

“Wh-”

“They’re mine and his father’s rings. Use them.”

Jeremy nodded.

* * *

He never got the chance to.

It happened really suddenly, but one day he was perfectly fine and healthy and the next, he was in bed sick. He was mostly just coughing, but he said his chest hurt too badly to move.

Michael, being an attentive boyfriend, was constantly in and out of the room, bringing him water and soup and love. Jeremy insisted he was okay, though. One sick day wasn’t a big deal. That didn’t stop Michael from doting anyway.

It was the beginning of the summer before the autumn they planned to get married.

One sick day became two, and he didn’t seem to be getting better. At all.

He started to hack. Violently.

Michael spent hours not looking for jobs and instead sitting down beside Jeremy and rubbing his back as he hacked. 

“It’ll pass, Jer,” Michael mumbled.

“I know, angel.”

It didn’t pass.

Slowly but surely Jeremy’s cough evolved into nonstop hacking and wheezing and hacking.

He laid in bed all day, with Michael beside him at all time. Both of his parents would check in on them occasionally, but neither could help either boy.

They were both deteriorating.

Michael took care of him, but he was no longer the one leaving the room to get anything. His mom or dad retrieved water and food for the both of them, bringing it in and setting it on Michael’s lap.

Michael stared blankly at it. He’d long lost his appetite.

He didn’t eat or sleep, just stayed awake beside Jeremy all day and night while he hacked and coughed.

When Michael had _finally_ gone to sleep (and not even by choice, he passed out from the physical exhaustion), Jeremy slipped the rings back to Mrs. Bell with tears in his eyes. Mrs. Bell silently understood, and with tears in her eyes as well, she took them and put them away.

He started to cough up blood and that was the beginning of the end. 

Michael sat with Jeremy and a bucket slowly accumulating blood and phlegm, still just rubbing his back and murmuring, “it’ll pass, it’ll pass.”

But one day Jeremy couldn’t listen to him say it would pass one more time.

“Michael, angel, please-” he was cut off by violent hacking, gripping the bucket with weak hands.

Michael dared to look at him. Jeremy looked awful. He was already pale, but _God_ he had no color whatsoever to him. He looked like a corpse.

And he felt like one, too.

“This isn’t going to pass,” Jeremy managed.

“What’re you talking about?” Michael said, not looking Jeremy in the eye as he cleaned up the bit of blood that missed the bucket. “Of course it will pass.”

“ _Michael._ ”

He was forced then to look into Jeremy’s eyes. And he saw the defeat.

“No, no,” Michael shook his head, “it’s just a little sickness, Jer. You’ll get better-”

“I’m _dying_ , Michael,” Jeremy said desperately. His voice was simultaneously hoarse and clogged. “I need you-” he stopped to hack, “I need you to understand that.”

“No, you aren’t,” Michael’s voice cracked, looking away from Jeremy and busying himself with pulling the frayed ends of the blanket. “You’re going to get better, Jeremy.”

“I’m not.”

He didn’t.

Michael had been trying to coax some food into him, holding the spoonful of warm soup and begging him.

Jeremy’s responses were quiet and soft and weak. His voice was hardly there and his eyes fluttered shut. Michael sighed in defeat, thinking he’d fallen asleep. Jeremy was doing that a lot lately.

But when Michael leaned down and kissed Jeremy on the forehead, he noticed there were no raspy breaths coming from his mouth. There was nothing.

He didn’t respond at first, shocked into silence.

But then a loud, soul ripping, body crushing sob tore its way out of his throat. His mother came running, putting her hands on Michael’s shoulders.

She had to pry him away from Jeremy, still sobbing loud and anguished cries.

His whole world was over. It was gone, dead. Jeremy was his whole world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >oh man this chapter, oh man I have so much extra stuff for y’all and it’s already such a long chapter  
> >I have no excuse nor apology for how insufferably long this chapter & these notes are  
> >this chapter was initially supposed to be a ‘brief chapter of backstory where Michael and his country boy give a handjob’ and it just  
> >we dubbed this “the cornfield fuckery”, we were saying things like:  
> •“the corn deserved better”  
> •”mr heere, later: seriously? right in front of my corn?”  
> •”[sends link to [this vine](https://twitter.com/skopecky/status/640643270167629824?lang=en)] This is the kingdom au boyfs”  
> •”What If,,, that toad he picked up is what gets him sick?”  
> “You will not demonize my toad son like that”  
> “But alex,,,, t o a d a i d s”  
> “YOU WILL N O T DEMONIZE MY TOAD SON LIKE THAT”  
> >anytime something was said that was foreshadowing, we shouted, like anytime one of them was like ‘oh man I’m gonna marry this boy’ we were like ‘no u ain’t sorry babe’  
> >”I just got an idea” “that’s dangerous”  
> >when Michael was thinking like ‘he’d spell it out if Jeremy needed him to’ spork said this:  
> “Jeremy: spell it out  
> Michael: uh ok F-U-C-K-M-E”  
> >SOME LINES FROM THE ORIGINAL ROLEPLAY (both in and out of character:)  
> •when Jeremy touched Michael’s cheek- “Hell, he had nothing to lose at this point- touchy touchy on the cheeky cheeky” was the original line ur welcome  
> •smooch, smonch, smobch, and smorch were all said in the original roleplay  
> •mcblushing  
> •”Michael: we are being v v gay in front of your house—  
> Jeremy: yeah why’d you stop smh”  
> •”Jesus Christ just suck this boy’s dick already JESUS”  
> •”I’m sorry Mr. Heere, your corn is blind-“  
> •”I mean- this probably would have been better to do in a bed??? But???? Cornfields????”  
> “Yep. Cornfields. What the fuck were they doing.”  
> >there was a lot of concern about lube  
> >I had a friend message me about milk while I was writing the line “commanded in a low, gravelly voice” and ended up writing “low, gravelly milk” and wheezed for ten solid minutes  
> >it was spork’s idea to make Mr. Heere sick  
> >uhh from the last line before the second big time skip on was written by me, solo, so you might notice a style shift. sorry?


	5. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~Morning~~ Evening After  & Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOP back on them regular updates y'all

It’s not until mid-evening that Rich wakes up having caught up on the night’s sleep he’d missed. It takes him a minute to realize that he’s not wrapped up in Michael anymore and… they had sex. _That's certainly, uh, one way to teach him…_ Rich rubs his neck right around where his hickeys are and is amused to find a few along his tan line along with the bruises from training.

He’d be lying through his teeth if he said he did not enjoy it, though.

“Micha?” He says softly, brushing some hair from Michael’s hair. “Micha, wake up.”

Michael groans. “Noooo,” he gripes like a child. He turns over and makes childish grabby-hands at Rich, wanting him to come back and cuddle. “Five more minutes,” he pleads with heavy lids. And Rich is weak, so he gives in, snuggling up to Michael.

He’s kind of rejoicing that Michael was still being affectionate towards him. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

Michael hums. “Of course I do, that’s how I got you in the first place,” he tucks his face into Rich’s neck, enjoying the warmth and closeness as Rich’s arms find a comfortable place around Michael’s waist, “might as well use it to my advantage.”

“Can I ask you something?” Rich says softly. “Because I don’t want to overstep my boundaries…”

“Sure,” Michael hums again, sinking into Rich’s arms.

“Is this… ever going to be more than a one-time thing?” _Ouch,_ Rich kind of hurt himself with the question. And Michael tenses up. “I just… if I can’t ever call you my angel, I guess it’s just… not worth it.”

Michael knows Rich means well by the question, and it’s fair enough to ask. But-

_“I see a beautiful angel, you know what? I’m calling you that from now on._ My _angel.”_

Michael shudders at the memory. He’d rather not be reminded of that when Rich has his arms around him. He sighs.

“I- I don’t know,” he says honestly, and Rich deflates. The last time he’d thrown himself headfirst into a relationship, life had really messed him up for it. He didn’t want what happened then to happen again. He wanted to keep Rich forever. “I want it to be more,” he explains, “but can it? I mean- I’m probably going to be married off, am I not?”

Rich sighs softly, avoiding Michael’s eyes. “Yes, and… well, sometimes if you're lucky it’s acceptable for you to still court men behind her back,” Michael feels sick at the thought, “as long as you play it off as us being friends. As long as she bearing children, it’s fair game.”

The more Rich thinks about it, the more upset he gets. One day he’ll have to plan a wedding for Michael. A royal wedding between Michael and some woman he’ll hardly know.

“I would not want-” Michael sighs at his inability to properly articulate. “I would not want to cheat on my _wife_. Period,” he looks into Rich’s eyes, though Rich is looking away, “I could _not_ do that in good conscience and be able to face my children…”

And now Michael is stuck on thinking about it. He’s going to have children with a woman. Some woman he might meet once, twice before their wedding. One who’s probably been handpicked by the King or Queen themselves.

“I guess that’s not what either of us wants. I-” before Rich can continue what he’s saying, he has to look up and try to blink away his tears, and that alerts Michael, and he cups his face as Rich fails to stop the tears. “I don’t know, it’s stupid to think that what I want even remotely matters in this shithole.”

“Please don’t cry,” Michael mumbles, wiping the few tears that had already fallen. But it is way too late to ask that of Rich since he’s already crying. He sits up and rubs his eyes forcefully in his own vain attempt to silence the sob creeping up in his throat. 

Life had to have it out for both of them, Michael with his past relationship and Rich…

He had always known from a young age that good things were not meant for him. They never were, anything decent always went to his father. _Always_. Even in his teen years, when training let him out occasionally to visit home, he was never enough to earn his father’s blessings into knightship. It wasn’t fair then, and it’s not fair now. 

It’s the weight of this truth that breaks whatever barrier he had against sobbing. The sound breaks through his mouth and the tears flood through his hands over his eyes. Michael sits up and wraps his arms around him. Rich sinks into the embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Michael says softly, rubbing circles on Rich’s back. He’s aware that in upholding his morals, he’s broken Rich’s heart before they even got the chance to begin. “It- I have a while before I’m going to be married off, I’m sure. The King wouldn’t want to marry me off until I’m a fit Prince and that…” he laughs bitterly, “is a long ways away. We still have so much time together until…”

It takes Rich a moment to find his voice again through the sobbing. “Until what?” His voice is hoarse still, and it carries so much hurt. “Until your big royal wedding where the world is going to love hearing about a happy couple and I can’t handle being-” he chokes. He can’t say the word. He absolutely cannot let himself say the word.

_Alone._ He’s so tired of being alone. 

“Stop, shh,” Michael coos softly, pulling Rich closer and squeezing tightly. Rich is more comforted by this then he lets on, the physical reminder that Michael is there. “You’re just hurting yourself more.” Michael wants to say everyone will be okay, that they would be okay, but he knew that wasn’t true. He doesn’t want to lie. “I’m sorry,” he says again instead.

“I don’t want to be by myself,” Rich says quietly.

“And you won’t,” Michael cups cheek. “We can stop this right now and you can,” he waved his hand, “move on as you desire.” Michael doesn’t want to stop this, he wants Rich for as long as he can have him, but that would be selfish. He’d be taking advantage of Rich’s affection for him. 

But Rich doesn’t want to move on either. There will never be a ‘moving on’, Rich won’t be able to forget. He’s already practically addicted to Michael, his mannerisms, his touch, his smell, and _dear god_ his looks. Rich would forever be lovestruck.

“Death is the only thing that can do that, and I would embrace it-”

“-No!” Michael says quickly, “I’d sooner go back on my word about cheating then let that happen to you,” he rushes the words, but he means them. “Are you sure you couldn’t… move on? I- please don’t misunderstand, I don’t want to lose you either, but maybe that would be better for you…?”

“I wouldn’t move on in any healthy way,” Rich knows himself, and he knows that much. He has a history of using unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with things. “I put myself in this dangerous situation, I didn’t think this through. And now you’re stuck in something inescapable; you don’t want me and I don’t want to forget you.” Michael opens his mouth, but nothing comes out there’s a pause of silence before Rich speaks. “I guess I really am what the Queen says I am. Just a common boy who thinks I’m entitled to the shiny things if I cry for it.”

Michael feels his heartbreak. “No, I want you I do, I want,” he gestures between them, “this, but…” and there are so many ‘buts’ to that.

_But_ the rules are what they are.

_But_ technically Rich is supposed to be his teacher, not his lover.

_But_ he still wasn’t sure he could cheat, no matter the circumstances.

“But we’re going to have to be okay with just having each other for now,” Michael finally finishes. 

Rich twists around so he can grab onto Michael and knocks him over so they’re somewhat snuggled up. In any other situation, Michael would have laughed at the tackle-hug, but then Rich is sobbing into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says for the millionth time- and he’d say it a million more times if it made Rich feel any better. The tears already stop coming, Rich having cried most of the moisture from his eyes already.

Rich presses several kisses into Michael’s neck, making Michael squirm just a little bit, softly replying with, “Don't apologize.”

Michael frowns. He still feels as though he’s broken Rich’s heart, and he feels horrible for it. But the prospect of courting men behind his future wife’s back makes him feel uneasy and almost disgusted. He cannot do it, so he wants to appreciate the time he does have with Rich.

“I still feel bad,” he mumbles.

Rich shakes his head. “Don’t be, Michael. Everything is absolutely okay now.”

“It’s not, but if you want to pretend it is…” Michael shrugs. He can pretend along with him, even if his chest hurts. And Rich’s chest hurts, too, but he’s become all too used to pretending everything was okay. He did the same when the older Prince was deemed ‘chronically insane.’

“Pretending is easier than overthrowing the kingdom and saying ‘fuck the rules, let’s overthrow the King and be gay together forever.’”

Michael sighs almost wistfully. “Why can’t we?” He knows the idea is insane and would never work out, but it’s insanely appealing. “What’s really stopping us?” He asks in a serious tone.

Rich sighs, his hands tracing patterns over Michael’s arms. “Well, for one, rebellion is hard to pull off successfully. And for another, if we did manage to win, then your brother, by age, would become…” Rich kinda trails off and sits up slowly, “your brother…” he looks confused.

Michael frowns. “My brother…?” He thinks maybe the sentence would be finished with ‘would become King’ and Michael would be totally okay with that, he’s still a long way from being ready to rule. And his brother has been trained for it his whole life, but Rich is acting weird.

Rich looks back at Michael and his confusion is slowly growing into worry. “You said you’re twenty-three, yes?”

“Yes…?” Michael’s frown deepens. “What’re you getting at, Rich?” He really isn’t shocked by the idea of his brother being King, but he’s pretty confused by how Rich is acting about it.

Rich gets out of the bed quickly. “Wh-” Michael sits up, his source of warmth gone now that Rich got up. Rich starts to grab up his clothes from the night before, getting dressed in a hurry. 

“Pick out an outfit, now. I’ll get something new on and just… dress yourself as best as you can until I get back, okay? You’re going to meet your brother.”

“What’s going on?” Michael asks though he’s already obeying and getting up from bed to get dressed anyway.

“Just start praying my suspicion is wrong, okay?” And with that, Rich leaves the room.

Michael is left a bit stunned, pulling on his clothing as best as he can considering it’s all very weird and there are several pieces that make up the outfit, including a corset. He’s never been very religious, but the way Rich said it makes him think he should actually start praying.

* * *

Rich crashes into the barracks, and instead of greeting everyone or answering the questions from the other knights, he purposefully changes into something to hide his hickeys. In his new clothes, yet still smelling somewhat of sex, he shoves past the grabbing hands with a panicked, “quit it!”

He only truly calms down once he’s back in the room with Michael. His panic is mostly soothed to see Michael did fairly well dressing himself.

“Not bad. Especially since I left you alone,” Rich comments. Michael smiles for a second with pride that he’d managed to mostly dress himself in the complex outfit. But his pride is short lived when he remembers why Rich had rushed out in the first place. Rich quickly fixes the few parts that needed correction. “I apologize if I’m scaring you. Honestly, I’m pretty scared myself.”

“I wish you’d explain,” Michael says, almost begging Rich to tell him what was going on.

“I fear what the king may do. He wants you to take the throne soon,” Rich leaves it at that vague explanation, starting to pull on Michael’s arm. “Come on, we should meet him in the garden.”

Michael’s still confused, but he doesn’t ask any more questions and simply lets Rich pull him along. “Okay?” He mumbles softly. Honestly’ he’s really excited to meet his brother outside of the stiff setting at the dinner table yesterday.

When they finally get to the large glass doors leading to the gardens, Rich calms as he gets a glimpse of James through the window. He slows and lets go of Michael so they’re walking together and it doesn’t appear that he’s dragging the Prince.

“A little bit of important info; don’t yell at him, give him time to finish his sentences, and if he starts crying, don’t hug him,” Rich summarizes and Michael nods. He’s not sure what he’s being prepared for, though. James had seemed fine at dinner if a bit quiet. Rich slides open the door, and James’s head shoots up as the door opens. He was honestly scared that his mother was coming to fuss him, but he’s pleasantly surprised to meet Rich’s eyes.

“G-G-Go-od even-n-ing, Ri-Ric-Richard,” James looks up from where he’s sitting. And Michael realizes then that he hadn’t heard James talk _at all_ at dinner. He wasn’t quiet, he was _silent_. Michael feels a pit forming his stomach; did his parents force him to stay quiet?

Rich grins and bows to James. “Good evening, Jemmy. I bring your brother,” he gestured to Michael, who waved awkwardly. James stands and brushes off a few flower petals and blades of grass off his clothes. He holds his hand out to Michael and grins. Michael hesitates for just a second before taking and shaking James’s hand. 

“He-Hello! My n-na-name is J-James, b-bu-but it’s ea-s-ier to s-say Je-Jemmy,” he greets warmly.

“Michael,” Michael says quietly. He can see, up close, where the similarity to their father stops. He’s pretty handsome, breeching twenty-five with some stubble and pale skin. But his eyes are even darker than Michael’s, contrasting said pale skin, which in turn contrasts with Michael’s deeper skin tone. He wonders for a second who he got his skin from because the Queen was darker, but not as dark as he was. Maybe it was from growing up working in the sun.

James gestures to the bench and looks between Rich and Michael. “Please, s-si… sit!” He says, pushing out the last word after a struggle that visibly upsets him. Michael looks at the bench for a second before sitting down, tugging on Rich’s sleeve for a second. Michael’s grown used to having him close by, and especially in this new and almost frightening situation, he needs him. Rich sits so that Michael is in the middle of Rich and his brother.

“Jemmy, how are your flowers doing?” 

Jemmy’s face lights up and he gestures to a patch of sunflowers, small but growing. “W-Wonderful! And-And it’s a-all my o-own wor-work!” James is very proud of his little garden patch he maintains. His parents have always tried everything to kill his flowers, but they’re fighters. Michael smiles widely as he talks, the pride in his eyes reminding him of when Rich talks about horses. “B-But I wan-want to he-he-hear about Micha-Michael!”

“W- I mean, what about me?” Michael laughs nervously. He wonders if any of this questioning is going to be anything similar to Rich’s questions on the ride to the castle. He hopes not.

James shrugs and tries to smooth down his hair. “A-Anything you w-wo-would like to tell m-me. I-I-I w-would like to kn-know you better!”

“Uh,” Michael doesn’t really know where to start. “I grew up in South Geli,” he doesn’t specify further to say _the slums_ , but South Geli is already a pretty run down city. “Um…” he fiddles with his own fingers, too scared to reach for the necklace because James saw the Queen break it. 

“So-South Geli? A-As in _th-th-the_ South Geli?” Geli was one of the few places James hadn't visited in his youth. He spent much of his time traveling the kingdom, but once he turned twelve was when the signs of his anxiety started, and all traveling was brought to a halt. 

“Uh, yes?” Michael isn’t sure what James means by _the_ South Geli, or what’s so special about it. It isn’t a very pretty place.

“W-Wh-What is S-So...uth Geli li-like?” James asks, leaning forward in interest.

“It’s um,” Michael’s mind starts filling in adjectives; dirty, poor, almost colorless- “it’s nice,” is what he ends up saying. Looking at James’s flowers, though, he realizes he hasn’t even seen some of them before.

“Is it? M-Mo-Moth-Mother and F-Fath-ther say it’s th-the wor-worst o-o-of the worst. But th-they als-also think mos-most of the-their king-ngdom de-de...deserves to be in shambles…” James mutters, beginning to twist a ring on his finger. “They are no-not nice peo-peop-people, Micha-ael.”

“It’s… they aren’t wrong there,” Michael relents. He doesn’t want to admit that they were right but… South Geli is almost like the slums of the country, and he lived in the slums of the slums. He notes, silently though, the ring that James is fiddling with. He doesn’t say anything because it makes him think of his own fidgeting with the necklace and the way the Queen had responded to it. “I already couldn’t trust the Queen,” Michael says, his hand reaching up for the necklace, twisting the fabric over it.

Rich takes the moment to slowly stand and walk a little ways away. Close enough to still see them, but far enough to give them the space to have their moment. Michael frowns a bit as he does, but he understands that he’s trying to give them some privacy. 

James stops twisting the ring when he notices Michael fidgeting again. “M-Mo-Mother broke yo-you neckla-lace. And I cou-could-couldn’t say any-thing. But I w-wanted to as-s-k who th-that belo-longed to. I c-can only im-imag-imagine your _r-real_ parents…” James would never imply anyone is true family to the King and Queen. And no one as nice as Michael would be their child. “If y-you can tru-trust me, I ca-can trus-trust you,” he says the words softly, making the quiet implication of Michael’s necklace story for his ring story.

“Yes…” Michael coughs, “um,” he knows part of trust his brother would be showing him that he still has the necklace and possibly explaining why he still has it. So he slides the chain out from under his clothing, laying it down on his chest after looking at it for a moment. “I-” he takes a deep breath. “My mother gave it to me just before I left, it… it has to be the most valuable thing my parents have ever owned. Um- you’re probably wondering how I still have it, right?” He huffs a laugh. He almost doesn’t want to explain the rest of the story because he’s not sure he can leave out him and Rich’s… relationship from the story.

“It’s no-not my nec-necklace, i-i-it can hold its o-ow-own sec-secrets,” James waves a hand, and Michael sighs with relief. He looks over at Rich, who is watching over them both, but his eyes are locked on Michael. “I-I’m gla-glad they tr-trus-trusted Ri-Richard with y-you. Yo-You two ha-ave im-impecca-ble chemistry,” Michael tenses up at that, but James keeps talking, “has he introduced you to all the horses yet?” He laughs softly, fondly remembering when they were young and would race horses and make up stories for the winning and losing horses. “I cons-consider Richa-Richard as the b-best kni-knigh-knight in the en-enti-entire royal gua-ard.”

“Yeah, he’s…” Michael glances over his shoulder at Rich, unaware of how loving his gaze is as he says, “he’s pretty great. And he did show me the horses,” he turns back to James, the soft, loving gaze still on his face a split second more.

“Bu-But, ah, I sh-shoul-should ho-hold up to m-m-my pro-prom-promise,” James slides the ring off his finger and shows it to him, “my wife’s ring.” Michael gasps softly.

“Oh,” from the way James said that Michael can tell it’s not a happy story, and he wants to give the same respect that James gave him with the necklace, so he doesn’t ask. James secures it on his finger and sighs softly, simply staring at it for a moment.

“I-I wo-would l-like to t-t-tell you mo-more, but I sh-should g-g-go ba-ack inside. If-If-If I sp-spend too mu-much tim-time ou-out here, I wi-will be fa-facing a wr-wrath. I-I-I hope w-we can t-t-talk more,” James stands, bows to Michael with a grin. 

“And, uh, I as well,” Michael nods, trying very hard to match James’s formal language, but he’s not sure he’s doing it right. He stands and returns the bow, though awkwardly, and he almost trips over his own feet while doing so. James waves to Rich before heading back inside.

Rich approaches again and stands next to Michael. “You two seemed to be getting along well. What do you think?”

“I’ve always wanted a brother,” Michael mumbles in reply. “He seems really nice,” he rubs the red gem on the end of the necklace, not sure how to tell Rich that they were easily spotted.

“Jemmy is a good man. He deserves better than what his parents have done to him.” Rich puts a hand on his stomach and realizes how late it is and the fact that they haven’t eaten once. “Want to go eat something?”

“Ah, sure,” Michael says, though his stomach is still in knots and he feels like he might puke. “I think Jemmy knows, um, about us,” he blurts out.

But, honestly, Rich isn’t worried about it. He has too much trust in James to believe he would ever flake on them. “If he has, I trust him very much.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him, but-” Michael makes some spinning motions with his hands, “if he can easily pick up on it then what if someone else could?” He sounds panicked, getting scared already when nothing has happened yet. Rich laughs softly and pats Michael on the head.

“James cares more about others than himself. Which is rare in this castle, everyone else is so vain that they’ll never pick up on us.”

Michael isn’t really reassured by that, but he nods anyway. “Okay,” he sighs, “let’s get some food then…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooookay another chapter down n'y'all
> 
> >something I’m going to comment on here as opposed to later, ‘ _celercaust_ ’ (the name of the kingdom) is a combination of Latin that means ‘fast burn’ which perfectly describes all of the relationships featured in this story ;)  
> >’ _familia ante omnia_ ’ is some more Latin and it means ‘family above all’ ,,go ahead and interpret how that applies as you wish ;)  
> >this was actually the point where we finally came up with the rest of the plot for this, whoops  
> >on the ‘angel’ part, in the original rp we were a bit ahead of the Jeremy parts so there was just a quick cut that said like “I ASKED SPORK TO INCORPORATE ‘ANGEL’ SOMEHOW SO INSERT THAT HERE IN ITALICS AND SHIT YOU FEEL ME?” and when spork DID incorporate it, we were HURT if ur reading this, spork, fuck u  
> >something I said while writing this chapter and emotional conversation™  
> •being sad and gay: (◕︿◕✿)  
> overthrowing the government and being gay: (◡‿◡✿)  
> >”Rich is basically the khaleesi of horses”  
> “my name is Richard and I sPEAK FOR THE HORSIES” -me and then tall  
> >’geli’ was originally a possible piece to the kingdom name, it means ‘ _ice_ ’ or, if you will, ‘ _chill_ ’ ;)


	6. Stable Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning! & Stables & Stableboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet

Another day, another early morning. Rich throws open the curtains, letting the bright sunlight flood the room. “Rise and shine, Michael!”

Michael rolls over and groans. “Why do I have to get up so early?” He gripes, pushing himself up on the bed so he’s sitting up. Rich walks over and gives Michael a quick kiss as a reward for getting up.

“It’s time we get some actual lessons done.So we have a full day of etiquette classes,” RIch slides into Michael’s lap and starts kissing his neck, a content hum coming from the latter, “good morning, by the way.” Michael is too tired to complain more about the early hour and he also can’t when Rich sits in his lap like he’s always meant to be there.

“G’morning,” Michael tilts his head back a bit. RIch smiles, kissing him a few more times on the neck. 

“Come on, babe, it’s about time I teach you how to dress yourself in all those layers,” Rich says, leaning back a bit.

“But it’s so much more fun having you take them off of me,” Michael teases, squeezing Rich’s sides. He knows, logically, they already wasted most of yesterday’s allotted time for lessons on having sex. But he wouldn’t mind wasting every lesson on sex.

RIch pats Michael’s face and grins. “I agree. But we need to do some actual work today.” With one last sweet kiss, Rich climbs out of Michael’s lap and grabs an outfit from the wardrobe. “Come on, babe.”

 _Babe_ , yeah, Michael could get used to that. _But you shouldn’t,_ he quickly dismisses the thought, not letting it bother him. “Alright,” he stands from the bed, walking over to the dresser.

“Well, the easy parts are simple enough, your undershirt and your pants,” he holds them out to Michael and Michael takes them to slide on, “don’t worry about tucking in your undershirt, it won’t matter,” he makes a waving hand motion as Michael was about to tuck it in. “Then your shirt, usually you have a piece that goes around your waist, kind of like a corset, but you _don’t_ want to die while wearing it. It’s usually just for show, which the Highnesses are known for.” Rich picks up a box off of the dresser and flips it open, shifting through buttons, clips, brooches, and anything else one could think of inside. “I’ll get the little knick-knacks, you just need to get to that point.”

“I think I can handle it,” Michael nods, absorbing those instructions. He slides on the shirt, pulling awkwardly at the corset strings. “Uh…” he tries to tie it himself without making it too ridiculously tight but ends up tying his hands _into_ the corset. “Rich…?” He says, batting his eyelashes to cover up how ridiculous this mistake is. Rich looks up at Michael and then the situation of his corset. He laughs, quickly untangling Michael and directing him through the proper way to tie the corset.

“Want me to untie it and you can try by yourself?” Rich suggests, already pulling some of the strings loose.

“I mean, not really, but I probably need to, don’t I?” Michael sighs. The corset fits perfectly the way Rich had it, he doesn’t want to ruin it.

Rich nods. “I think you should.” So, he carefully pulls the silk strings all the way undone and places each end in Michael’s hands. “You can do it, babe.”

Michael groans. He can’t say no when Rich calls him babe, the endearment just makes him weak. “Fine…” he mumbles, twisting his head around as much as he can to see his back. He takes the silk strings and starts to attempt once again to tie it. It took him a moment but… “I got it!”

Rich smiles and kisses him. “You did! And you did great. Now then, here comes the vest and several pins,” he hands the vest to Michael while pulling out a few decorative pins.

“Okay,” Michael takes it and slides it over his arms. He looks into the box of pins and chains. That whole box alone has to be worth more money than he’s ever earned in his entire life. 

Rich starts at the top, pinning on a silver star on the top left of his vest. “The silver star goes on the top of your vest. Your great-grandfather won this for military successes. It’s old and sometimes the securing piece for the back falls off, but it’s fine, just use the back from another pin.” 

Michael already feels overwhelmed by the adornments. He practically starts to tally up the approximate price in his head. And it’s dizzying.

Rich then attaches a chain that goes through the empty loops on his vest. “This chain is nothing special, just secures the vest.”

 _This chain, a solid gold chain, is ‘nothing special’_ , and the thought is particularly distressing. How much more expensive does it get if a solid gold chain is nothing?

Rich notices the look on Michael’s face and stops. “Are you okay, babe? You look overwhelmed. Should I slow down?”

Michael shakes his head a bit slowly. “I am so not fit for this,” he mumbles. There’s still more pins in the box, more cost to be added to the already ridiculously expensive outfit.

Rich sets down the rest of the pins for the outfit and kisses him sweetly. Michael relaxes into the kiss. “You will be, babe. It just takes some time. Do you want me to just finish putting the outfit together and we can finish this another time?”

Michael’s not sure how reassured he is by Rich’s words, though. _By the time you’re fit for this, you’ll be engaged, he won’t be able to call you babe anymore,_ a small whisper in the back of his head reminds him. He again tries to ignore it but isn’t quite so successful this time. He simply nods mutely to Rich’s suggestion. Rich nods back. He finishes with all the pins and chains.

“Okay, so we can either face the horses or face dining. Your pick, but bonus points go towards horses because I love horses and Jemmy is riding today,” Rich says. Michael weighs those options. On one hand, horses are still intimidating. But on the other, he’d take that other dining.

And the fact that he knows RIch’s face will just light up if he chooses horses definitely has an influence on his choice. “Horses.”

And, as expected, Rich lights up. “Yay!” Michael can’t help but smile like a lovestruck idiot. The big, buff knight acts like a toddler on Christmas morning at the mention of horses.

“Lead the way then?” He says, offering his hand to Rich. He wonders, idly, if they could get away with hand holding outside the room. Probably not, but he really wants to. Rich takes his hand and kisses it. 

“I know a back way to the stables if you want to hold hands that bad, babe,” Rich says, picking up on Michael’s thoughts. He should really be more careful, but honestly, he’s excited about having Michael all to himself for now. And the logical part of Michael tells him the same thing, but the emotional part wants to never let go of Rich’s hand.

So, he nods. “Let’s go that back way then.” Rich nods and leads the way. 

It’s not a shortcut, in fact, it takes longer. But that might also be because Rich stops a few times to kiss Michael, and Michael doesn’t mind nor even notice how long it takes because he’s dizzied by the kisses. His skin is buzzing from the contact. Eventually, they reach a little wooden door and after Rich pushes it open, they’re inside an empty stable.

“Tada!” Rich chimes happily, walking out.

“Huh. That’s pretty cool,” Michael gestures back to the way they came from.

Rich lets go of Michael’s hand and heads over to his horse, Lars, giving him a little kiss on the snout. “Good morning, Lars!” Michael watches with that same lovestruck gaze. As intimidating as the horses are, Rich is adorable with them.

“Master Rich!” A younger voice calls out. In runs Finley, bouncing up to Rich with a bucket of oats. “Hello! Good Morning! I, uh, was feeding everyone!” He proudly holds up the bucket. “Master Jemmy took Nightingale and mare Dandelion out with her mother!”

Rich ruffles up Finley’s hair and Michael’s heart _melts_. “You’re doing wonderful, Finley. You’ll be a grand stable-master. Is Rose fed? I’m showing Prince Michael the ropes,” he gestures over to Michael, who is totally lost in thought.

Finley nods. “Yes! May I get her?”

“Of course!”

Rich looks on as Finley puts the rein on the older mare and gently guides her out of the stable with some sugar cubes. The transition between them is smooth. “Look at you- you're becoming great at this, Young Master Finley.” Finley excitedly jumped up and down, clearly excited at being called Young Master. “Take the day off, Finn. See if Master Jemmy will talk you riding, yeah?” Finley nods and scurries off down the path James had taken.

Rich looks back at Michael with a soft smile. “Finley is a great little kid.”

Seeing Rich interact with the young boy has brought up a thousand different fantasies for Michael of how Rich would be with children- specifically _their_ children, even though he knows it would never happen.

And then the negative thoughts start to hit: _That won’t ever happen, you can’t keep him. Remember what happened last time you felt this way?_ He shudders at the memory.

Michael would be beaming happily at the sight, but his expression is weighed down by all of his thoughts. Instead, he has to force a smile. “You’re really great with him,” he says honestly, but it sounds strangled. Rich frowns. He has a bit of an eye for a forced smile. 

“Something’s wrong. Are you that scared of the horses? I promise Rose is a gentle girl, she’s real sweet,” Rich says softly.

“No, no, it’s not the horses,” Michael says in a rush, and then realizes that he’s implied something is wrong and he’s not sure he wants to get into that. “I-I mean, I’m fine. Can we ride now?”

Rich is clearly not happy with that answer, but he also doesn’t press it. Michael feels bad for ruining the trip to the stables already. “Yeah, of course. Do you remember how to mount the horse?”

“I think so,” Michael says less than confidently. He puts one foot in the holder and pushes up on it and-

Falls backward off when he tries to throw his leg over the horse.

Rich gasps pretty loudly and quickly ties up the reins to a post before helping Michael up. “Holy shit- are you okay?” Michael starts laughing.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned,” he says, rubbing his back. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” His mind is just somewhere else and that’s why he couldn’t focus and get himself on the horse. Rich hugs him tightly and kisses his head a few times, really throwing caution to the wind because he wants to comfort Michael after that fall.

“Falling off a horse fucking sucks,” Rich speaks from experience, “are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I might be a little bruised tomorrow, and I’m a bit sore, but I’m alright,” Michael reassures him. Rich nods and kisses his lips extremely quickly, and despite it lasting only a split second, it makes Michael blush. Michael knows he should probably tell Rich to tone down the affection, anyone could walk into the stables, but he’s enjoying it too much to care.

“I’ll help you up or at least act as a cushion if you fall again,” Rich smiles.

“Alright,” Michael sighs. He places one hand firmly in Rich’s hand and another on the post, putting his foot back in the holder and using both Rich and the post as leverage to get up on the horse.

Rich grins. “Wonderful! Now you’re on the horse,” he unties Rose from the post and firmly holds her, “usually you would have the reins, but to get you used to being on a horse I’ll guide you and you hold onto the saddle.” Michael smiles, but it’s still forced. 

“Okay, whatever works,” Michael grips tightly to the saddle, working on his balance as Rich starts guiding Rose around just outside the stable. At first, he walks them in slow circles, but he eventually works them up to doing circles around the whole barn.

“Hey, is everything okay? You seem kind of… far away,” Rich looks away, “I wanted to bring you here to keep your mind off of anything bad… Is it me…?”

Michael’s grip on the saddle tightens until his knuckles are white. “No, it’s really not you,” Michael sighs, shifting himself to balance better. “Just- life must really have it out for me,” he huffs a sarcastic, almost angry sounding laugh. Rich looks startled by that.

“That… kind of makes me think it is me… If it could be any other way, I would make it happen,” Rich mumbles.

“It’s not you- well, it’s not _just_ you,” Michael starts to rub the bumps in the saddle. He’s not sure Rich really wants to hear this story anyway, maybe he just won’t ask. But if he does… Michael would answer.

Rich nods slowly. “It’s the person you lost your virginity to, right?” He asks softly. He doesn’t know the extent of Michael’s past relationship, but the way he said that can only make him assume.

Michael tenses even more, readying himself to be questioned. “Yeah,” he says stiffly. “We- uh- we were pretty young when we met, fifteen, sixteen, I don’t remember,” he feels a pang of sadness when he realizes that; he doesn’t remember exactly how old he was. “We thought we were going to get married,” he laughs another bitter, angry laugh, rolling his eyes at himself, “like I said, we were young.”

He leaves out that they were actually going to get married. He doesn’t mention how close they were to it, or what stopped them. He never fills in those blanks without being prompted.

But Rich looks distant now. He feels guilty, bringing up an ex when they’re hardly dating. He’s acutely aware that he can’t have an inexperienced rider on the horse while he’s like this. He needed to ride by himself, he wouldn’t make it through the day with this on his mind. So, he wordlessly guides Michael’s horse back to the stables.

He mumbles something about taking a break before taking Lars out of the stable box. He mounts the horse and takes off at full speed. Michael’s heart aches to watch him go. He wishes he hadn’t brought it up in the first place, but he doesn’t say anything to make Rich stop, simply lets him go. Rich just needs his own space right now.

HIs chest also hurts from the bad memories. He’s not sure when he ever really ‘got over’ what happened, but nevertheless having it dredged back up is not fun. And he hates how it drives Rich away. He sits down on one of the benches in the stables, twisting his fingers around in his hands, wondering just how badly he’d fucked up his relationship with Rich, whatever it is. He sighs, sitting back on the bench and looking at the horse he’d been riding. Rose, Rich had said was her name. As he’s growing less and less scared of the horses, he starts to see what Rich must see.

“You like my da-ad!” A sing-songy voice suddenly says, making Michael jump. Finley is holding the reins to a strong black horse and he seems to be struggling to get him into the stable box.4

“Wh-What’re you talking about?” Michael laughs nervously. Once Finley has the horse in the stable, he sits down next to Michael and grins up at him. “You! You like Master Rich- and he likes you. Master Jemmy said I shouldn’t say anything, but I wanna know! Master Rich needs someone else to like besides the horses and me. And Master Jemmy, but everyone likes Master Jemmy.”

“J- Did Jemmy tell you that?” Michael asks cautiously. He’s careful not to say anything that would confirm it for Finley. Finley seems pretty young and probably wouldn’t understand that it needs to be kept a secret.

Finley shakes his head. “No, Master Jemmy said ‘it’s not nice to talk about people like that,’” he does his best adult-sounding voice, “and that ‘you shouldn’t bother them with a question like that’, but it’s not like I said you love each other.”

Michael nods, a bit condescending, but Finley _is_ a child. “He’s right. It’s not, um, polite,” he doesn’t want to scold Finley for his curiosity.

Finley swings his feet and reaches into the nearby barrel, grabbing and taking a large bite out of one of the apples. “Why? Does Jemmy know a secret?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Michael lies easily, shaking his head.

Finley nods. “Okay. Just be nice to Master Rich. He’s really sad all the time and sometimes the horses don’t even cheer them up. He’ll try to tell you it helped, but he’s kinda like my dad, so I pretend to believe him.”

Michael smiles a bit sadly, wondering how much he’s already hurt Rich. “I won’t,” he says softly, thinking now of how much he’s going to hurt Rich in the future when he has to get married. Finley takes another bite of his apple before holding his (slightly sticky from the apple) hand out to Michael to shake. Michael takes it without hesitation nor question. It’s just one of those things one does for kids.

Speaking with a mouthful, Finley says, “My name’s Finley! I just turned seven.”

“Michael,” Michael says, though he’s pretty sure Finley already knows his name since he’s kind of the new prince, “I’m twenty-three.”

“That’s old,” Finley says _very_ matter-of-factly. “The Queen is like… a bajillion years old. And she’s mean,” he takes a small bite of his apple and stays quiet while he eats it. “She also said I can’t wear the pretty clothes Master Rich bought for me. She burns them.”

Michael has to force himself to keep smiling, if only for Finley’s sake. “Yeah, she can be pretty mean,” he nods. He tries his best to hide how furious he is that she burns the things Rich buys for Finley- _what kind of devil_ -

Finley still chomps away at his apple. “You know why the Queen and King are so dysfunctional?” He’s pretty proud of that big word. “The Queen is too stubborn for the King. She used to be really nice apparently, but the King cheated on her and now she doesn’t trust him. Like, they came down for a ride last week, and King Charles wanted to ride Nightingale, but Queen Celia wanted to ride Rose. And they _fought_.” Finley says. He’s a bit of a gossip, seeing how he manages to go unnoticed in most situations. He observes a lot around the castle.

Michael isn’t sure what to do with this information, but it really only furthers his belief that he can’t cheat on his future wife. “I wouldn’t trust him either…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >I don't have much to say about this chapter  
> >except that I love Finley  
> >and he's important  
> >bls love him


	7. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slip-Up & Throw Down & A Little Too Much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN SITTING ON 1600 WORDS OF THIS SINCE JANUARY IM SO SORRY
> 
> i really want to get back on regular updates but i can't make any promises. I'm graduating soon and thats a busy time, but i really really miss this au. 
> 
> so hi!

Rich soon trots through the stable doors, still a bit spacey but he still feels much better. And his mood is only lifted more to see Michael and Finley chattering away.

It’s hard, at this moment, to not imagine the three of them living together in a little cottage; Michael and Rich married and Finley their son, maybe a few other kids? Yeah, that fantasy brings a smile to his face, but with a tone of sadness. They can’t ever have that. He brushes it aside.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite people in the world,” he says as he walks over. Michael looks up from Finley and smiles. 

“Hi!” Finley grins, his apple half gone by now.

“Hey,” Michael reaches over and ruffles Finley’s hair, “this one was just filling me in on some juicy castle gossip.”

Finley nods his head very seriously. “Yep!”

Rich hops off his horse and holds the reins on one hand and puts the other on his hip. “Gossip?” He says with faux-disappointment, though he’s grinning. “It’s not very nice to talk about people, Finn. Unless it’s the King and Queen, then it’s okay.”

Finley and Rich share a look and wink. Michael chuckles.

“Maybe he said something about you,” Michael states, pretending to look bored, “mm, not that I’d tell you. What’s said in the gossip circle stays in the gossip circle.”

Rich laughs and kisses Finley on the top of the head- he really tries to show as much fatherly love to him as he can, the boy doesn’t have any parents otherwise. “I’m going to have to tear up this gossip circle so Michael can ride the horse with the reins in his hands.”

“Oh,” Michael sighs. He’d forgotten about lessons. “Right,” he stands from the bench, “let’s do this.” He manages to sound more confident than he really is. He knows the conversation they’d been having before Rich took a break isn’t finished yet, but they’re going to have to table the issue for now.

But beside him, Finley gasps really quietly. “Wait- oh my gosh, are you _married?_ ” 

Both Rich and Michael turn bright red. Rich shushes him. “Finley! That’s not- where did you get that idea?”

“You didn’t use a title!” Finley pointed out.

 _Oh. Fuck_.

Michael hasn’t even realized Rich didn’t use a title. It would’ve felt weird if he did. They’re- are they dating? He’s going to say they are- they’re _dating_ , titles would be uncomfortable. But, they need to be more careful. If a seven-year-old could pick up on it, anyone else could _easily_.

Rich kneels on the floor and takes Finley’s face in his hands. “Listen to me closely, Finley, okay? You can’t tell anybody about that slip-up. Okay? Michael and I aren’t married. It was a mistake.”

Michael says a silent prayer.

Finley nods, looking somewhat guilty. Rich ruffles his hair and boops his nose. “No need for guilt, just keep it quiet.”

Michael feels an uneasiness. They’re really trusting a lot of people (well, two, but given the circumstances, that’s a lot) with their secret. Even if Finley doesn’t know the whole truth, Rich forgetting titles would be a bad thing for someone higher up to find out about.

“So, um, should I attempt to mount the horse again?” Michael says, clearing his throat.

Rich looks back up at Michael and nods. “Yes, let's get back to the riding lesson, Prince Michael.” 

They both wince at the title. But it’s necessary. 

Rich stands and looks at Lars. “Would you like to practice on Lars, or should I get Rose?”

“Uh,” Michael glances between the horses. Lars seems like a runner. “I think Rose would be better.”

“Very well,” Rich says and, _God_ , he hates how formal he has to be now.

He puts Lars away and takes Rose out of her box once more. She makes an irritated noise and tosses her head, but he quickly soothes her with a sugar cube. Michael watches with some awe. He’s not sure what witchcraft those sugar cubes are, but he thinks he should keep some on hand.

“Finley, bring Dandelion and Sunny back in. They’ve been out awhile,” Rich instructs and Finley salutes before scurrying off.

Michael hesitantly reaches out when Rose gets nearer, touching her snout very gently. She is gentle in return, nudging her head up to encourage him to pet her.

“Go on, give her a pet,” Rich says softly, “she’s old and deserves the love.” And if anyone saw his face at that moment, they’d know how in love he was.

Michael pressed his hand down a little, stroking her nose. He wonders how the hell he found horses so scary before. Rose is so soft and gentle. He repeats the pet, smiling softly at her.

And then there’s a noise- probably Finley dropping something- and the spell is broken.

Michael moves his hand quickly and coughs. “Uh, can you help me up this time?” He offers a hand to Rich.

Rich, a little shaken from the snap back to reality, takes Michael’s hand and lifts him up.

“Everything okay, Finley?” He shouts, just to make sure.

There’s no response for a few tense seconds. And then a cry of pain.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Rich quickly hoists Michael back down, running off in the direction of the noise. Leaving Michael a little dizzy, but mostly worried.

He debates for a second before following after Rich.

And the sight they stumble upon is not pretty.

“You think you can take a _knight’s_ job? You’re just a kid!” One knight yells, delivering a kick to Finley’s gut.

Rich crashes between the knight and Finley. “Hold the fuck up! You take a moment to think about what you’re doing?” He yells.

“Oh yeah! Words of wisdom from the cousin-fucking slum boy!”

“Can he even form a coherent sentence?”

“I bet he takes it up the ass, and he’s out of practice.”

Rich turns red from everything they’re saying, both with anger and embarrassment. He draws his sword, holding up to the knight who kicked Finley. “You stay away from him.”

Michael feels anger flare in his chest. Not only have these knights assaulted Finley, but now they’re ridiculing Rich. That won’t stand, nope.

But he also can’t let Rich hold a sword to another knights throat, especially when none of the knights here physically hurt him. It looks really bad. That won’t stand either.

“Everyone stop,” he says in a loud, commanding voice he didn’t know he had.

But it has its intended effect as the knights freeze. They all now recognize him as the _Prince._

“You,” he reaches over to Rich and slowly lowers the sword, saying nothing more. “And the rest of you, get out of here before I report you all for misconduct.”

He’s still not sure where this authority is coming from, but it seems to work as all the knights flee.

And there’s honestly a real sense of pride for Rich, watching Michael diffuse the whole situation. He listens, too, putting his sword away and giving an apologetic bow.

And once all the knights are gone, both of them shift. Michael’s strong authority melts away and Rich’s composure does too. They both kneel down next to Finley and Rich scoops him up.

Bloodied nose, wheezing, and some bruises, they got Finley pretty good. And Rich vaguely realizes he might be crying a little.

“Here,” Michael says, recognizing the way Finley was wheezing probably meant he had the wind knocked out of him, “breathe with me.” He starts to take slow and careful breaths. Finley follows along, trying his best to stay calm. Michael admires his strength. He nods. “Good, good, now tilt your head forward a little,” he instructs and Finley does so, “believe it or not, this helps the nosebleed.”

Michael’s in full nurse-more, having dealt with more fight-related injuries than he cares to admit and doesn’t notice Rich still crying beside him. His focus is Finley right now.

So he’s a little startled when Rich speaks.

“The wise so young, they say never do live long,” Rich wipes his face.

Finley turns a little to see him. “What?”

Michael’s equally confused and snapped slightly from his nurse persona. “Wh-” he frowns a little, furrowing his brows, “What?” He feels like he should recognize what Rich said, but he doesn’t.

“Shakespeare. The wise so young, they say never do live long. I’ll-” he looks down at Finley and uses a handkerchief to wipe some of the blood, “It’s a grown-up thing, Finley.”

Finley huffs a little. “When I get older, I won’t talk all confusing like that.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you don’t have to,” Michael says, rolling his eyes, but most to hide the fact that he feels a tad insecure about his education- or lack thereof. Of course, he’s _heard of_ Shakespeare, everyone’s heard of him, but he’s never read a single line. “I don’t understand it either,” he says in a stage whisper to Finley.

Finley giggles. “Good. You’re really nice.”

Michael smiled a bit. “Thanks, kid.”

Rich wishes this was in better circumstances so he could actually enjoy the nice moment between them, but Finley’s still bruised and bloody. 

“Prince Michael? I think it would be safest to halt lessons for today,” Rich says. Michael nods.

“Yeah, one sec,” he turns back to Finley. “How’s your nose? Is it still bleeding at all?”

Finley wipes his nose on his sleeve. “Yeah, I think I’m okay.”

“Okay, good. Get some rest, okay, bud?” Michael ruffles Finley’s hair and stands. “He’ll be okay,” he says to Rich quiet enough that Finley won’t hear.

Rich nods and takes Michael’s hand before walking back towards the secret passage they initially came through.

And as soon as they’re there, Rich crashes his lips into Michael’s. Michael makes a small noise of shock, but it only takes a moment before he melts into it, cupping his hands around Rich’s cheeks.

This really isn’t the place for making out, and Rich knows as much, but right now it doesn’t matter. Nobody could see them and Rich craved Michael’s touch, he needed the familiarity of it. 

He puts his hands on Michael’s hips and pulls him closer. “God I love you,” he says, the words slightly muffled against Michael’s lips.

But Michael hears them clearly. And he freezes up. Where he was once receptive and reciprocative to the kisses and touches, he’s now stock-still. His heart pounds against his chest. He wonders if Rich can hear it.

_Love-_

The last time he’d heard those words on that context—

He shudders.

Rich notices Michael’s heart because he’s pressed up against him and can feel it going a mile a minute. So he lets go and takes a few steps back. Michael breathes suddenly once he has space.

“I’m sorry,” Rich mumbles.

“No- it’s-” Michael makes a frustrated noise at how inarticulate he is in a moment where he really needs to be clear. “I don’t want… what happened before to happen all over again,” he admits. He yearns to say it back, but he’s terrified that his love is some sort of curse. He can’t lose Rich too.

Rich just looks at him for a while, a quiet moment, before speaking again. “The wise so young, they say do never live long,” he mumbles, and Michael listens although he’s not sure he understands. “In its simplest terms, it was meant to allude to the King killing his two young nephews. But I suppose in the heat of the moment, I meant it to be ‘young wisdom will get you killed,’” he sighs and rubs his face. “Today has been a shitty day and it’s not even noon. This is my fault, I’m sorry.”

Michael frowns a little. “It has been, but it’s not your fault,” he sighs, “it’s really mine. I’m the one harboring fear over something that happened- years ago.” He doesn’t want to count.

“And I don’t want to make you talk about it. I… really didn’t expect the knights to attack Finley. Not today, at least. Usually, when they’re mad at someone, it travels to the barracks and I can be ready to protect Finley and-”

The very sudden realization that he let Finley get hurt catches in his throat. Shaking his head, Rich tries to compose himself. “That kid is like my son! He’s been living in the stables since he was like, I don’t know, five? And a bunch of grown men have been attacking him and I just don’t know how to make it stop!”

“Shh, Rich,” Michael touches Rich’s arm softly. “It’s okay, he’s okay,” he says softly. Finley really would be fine, but he understands Rich’s frustration. “And with any luck, maybe I scared them and it won’t happen again.”

Rich still has angry tears brewing in his eyes, but he holds himself together. “It isn’t fair to him. He’s just a kid trying to figure himself out… I know I said no in the beginning, but I’m considering what you said about revolting.”

Michael is obviously taken aback, stepping back. “You can’t be serious,” he starts, incredulous, but then he looks Rich’s eyes and knows. “You’re serious.”

Rich just nods. “But I cant do it without you. So I won’t start anything unless you want me to. You and Finley being safe are my top priorities.”

Michael can’t believe Rich is serious about this. He’d been joking- well, mostly- when he’d mentioned it earlier. “I-” he takes a breath and Rich thinks he’s ruined everything for a moment. “Let me think about it, okay?”

“Of course,” Rich nods. “I will. And- I just hope my slip up won’t damage our relationship. Whatever it may be.”

“No- no it wasn’t bad,” Michael shakes his head. “I-” he chokes on the words. He looks into Rich’s eyes, trying to convey everything he’s feeling with his eyes. Rich just smiles and kisses him. 

It pains him somewhat that Michael wasn’t able to say it, but he understands. 

Michael kisses back fiercely, pulling Rich’s collar. He wants to put everything he can into the kiss in case he didn’t get it across with his eyes. Rich is a little surprised, but not opposed, and receives it well.

Michael pulls away to breathe for a moment. He almost wants to kiss Rich again, but they’re still in the secret passage, and they could get caught.

“We should… head back,” Michael finally says.

Rich nods. “We- we should,” he says breathlessly. “Should we stop in your room or are we saving that for tonight?” He asks with a sly grin. Michael laughs.

“Tempting. But don’t we have etiquette lessons or something?”

Rich groans and takes Michael’s hand as they start walking down the passage. “Yeah. We have to cover dining, which is the _worst_.” Michael laughs under his breath at Rich’s childish put-out tone.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he says. He lifts Rich’s hand up and kisses his knuckles before lowering them both back down and re-lacing their fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >IM SO SORRY FINN _(IT WAS TALL'S IDEA)_  
>  >"last time i heard 'i love you' my boyfriend died of toad aids'  
> "what... the actual fuck,,"  
> >[tall's reaction to me uploading a new chapter](https://imgur.com/a/hCf1lrx)


End file.
